Newton's Third
by Kiraya
Summary: Yami x Seto. When Kaiba Seto loses that which he treasures most, his world comes crashing down until he finds support from the most unlikely source.
1. Sic Transit Vir

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya

**Disclaimer**: I will only say this once, so pay attention. I do not own Yuugiou. And if you're not into yaoi, you'll be wanting to leave. Pairing: Seto/Yami, of course. Also, Western burial practices have usurped the place of Japanese ones.

Thoughts are shown _like this_; Yuugi-to-Yami communication _like this._

* * *

  
  
"**Mokuba**!"

Kaiba Seto sat bolt upright in his bed, breathing hard. He glanced at the clock. _This is impossible,_ he thought, running his fingers through his hair. It was the third time in the past four hours he had woken from the dream—

Except it wasn't a dream.

Mokuba was really… gone.

He shook his head violently. _Don_'_t think about it…!_

Time passed by, slowly. So slowly.

Kaiba paced the room at least a hundred and twenty-six times — he lost count when he tripped over his shoes, lying in the middle of the floor where he had carelessly thrown them. He kicked them into the corner with a curse before throwing himself into a chair by the window. "Son of a bitch," he muttered into his hands, his thoughts full of how it had happened.

_No way am I ever going to get to sleep tonight._

Holding his knees to his chest, he stared silently out the window at the stars till the sun rose.

* * *

Standing near his little brother's coffin, Kaiba growled under his breath. _If I hear one more person murmur empty platitudes about death, I swear I'll scream. _He shifted his weight uncomfortably, peering over the heads of business associates at the clock. Still another hour and a half of this torture to go — an eternity, the way time was passing.

_Shit. _The mayor of Domino City was headed his way with his wife — he'd have to play the senseless game of social niceties with the idiots, now.

Kaiba's eyes wandered the room as he mechanically uttered the ritual phrases required to fill in the gaps in the mayor's wife's chatter. Catching sight of a familiar, spiky-haired head, he stifled a sigh. _Great. Just great. The only way this could possibly get worse would be if Yuugi brought that ditzy Anzu along._

But it wasn't Yuugi — the figure was too tall, looking rather elegant (something Kaiba knew Yuugi would never be able to achieve) in his mourning garb. It had to be Yami, Yuugi's duel-crazy maniac personality (or ancient Egyptian spirit, as his little lookalike always claimed). Whatever the hell he was, he had gotten himself a body a while back — Kaiba didn't even want to **think** about how that had happened — and now he constantly hung out with Yuugi and his little friends.

Yami spotted him and made his way through the crowd. "Please excuse us for a moment," he said smoothly to the mayor and his wife, taking Kaiba by the arm and leading him to an adjoining room — free of people, thankfully.

"What do you want?" Kaiba rasped in irritation, shaking the offending hand off his arm.

Yami stopped, his expression serious. "I… I wanted to express my condolences. In some way." He took a seat on a nearby sofa and gestured for Kaiba to join him. "Besides, you looked like you needed a break."

For just an instant, Kaiba felt gratitude toward Yami — _Boy, am I losing it,_ he thought in disgust, sitting down in spite of himself. "Well? What do you have to say?"

Yami stared at the floor, scuffing his shoe on the carpet a few times, apparently lost in thought. "I don't know." He looked at Kaiba. "You want to talk about it?"

The young billionaire barked a laugh. "What's there to talk about?" he asked bitterly, and it all came rushing out, a flood of words that he could not stop. "It all happened so fast. Mokuba was simply walking down the street, minding his own business, when some drunk asshole came careening around the corner, skidded onto the sidewalk, and crashed right into him. He…" His voice choked up; he couldn't say it.

"…Died?" Yami supplied hesitantly.

Kaiba snarled at the word. "…Almost instantly. They say it's lucky he didn't suffer—" an ironic snort at this "—and that he probably never even knew what hit him." He stared at the floor. _Why am I telling him all this? _he mused, moderately annoyed with himself. _As if he really cares…!_

Yami sat there, silent.

_It feels good to get it off my chest, though… _Kaiba sighed. "I didn't even get to… say goodbye." He shook his head, determined not to lose control, especially in front of this punk.

"Sometimes," the other said quietly, "the pain lessens if you stop holding back."

Kaiba clenched his teeth. "I can't!" he burst out. "I let go once, the day it happened to our parents, but that was it. Never again, I told myself. I had to be strong—"

"For Mokuba."

His vision blurred…

* * *

  
  
Yuugi opened the door cautiously, sensing the familiar presence of his yami inside. _Have you seen Kaiba-kun?_ he asked hesitantly through their link. _Nobody knows where he is. We just got here, the gang, Ryou-kun, Otogi-kun, and me, and_— He stopped.

There, looking up at him, sat Yami. In his arms he gently held the object of Yuugi's search — Kaiba Seto, the man of ice — who clung to him, weeping, like a brokenhearted child.

_Which he is, really,_ Yuugi noted sadly.

For a long time, hikari and yami simply gazed at each other, amethyst eyes into wine-colored ones, over the head of the grieving youth. Neither moved — until Yuugi nodded slowly and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

* * *

5 December 2002.

To be continued.


	2. Promises

**NEWTON'S THIRD** by Kiraya  
  
Yami-to-Yuugi communication is shown _like this._

* * *

  
  
Kaiba's shoulders shook with his sobs. It was as if, somewhere inside him, a dam had finally burst, and he could do nothing until the flood of long pent-up emotions ran its course.  
  
And eventually, the tears did abate. Drained, he could do nothing but lean against Yami's chest. Suprisingly enough, his outburst had made him feel a lot better. Closing his eyes, he sighed heavily.  
  
Hesitantly, almost imperceptibly, Yami's arms tightened around him.  
  
Kaiba suddenly shoved him away, his face reddening. "Get out," he snarled.  
  
Yami simply stared at him, his expression unreadable.  
  
"**Get** **out**!" the young billionaire roared. He suddenly grabbed the other's arm. "But first you must promise me that you will tell no one — not even Yuugi — of this, or I swear on Mokuba's soul I will shatter that precious Puzzle of yours and send all its pieces to join your lost Exodia cards."  
  
Yami blanched. Somehow managing to keep his voice level, he replied, "All right — but only on one condition."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's not good for anyone to be alone with their grief. You have to promise that you'll call and talk to me about it when you need to."  
  
Kaiba stared at him for a moment, then laughed shortly. "What are you, my shrink? Think I need somebody to use as a crutch? _Ooh, Kaiba Seto's crying, guess this must be too much for him to handle. _Well, let me tell you something. I've been relying on myself and nobody else for years — I don't need a grief counselor, and I most certainly don't need **you**."  
  
Yami's eyes narrowed dangerously. "In that case, I guess neither of us is leaving."  
  
They stood there and glared at each other. For a long time, neither so much as blinked — until Kaiba was forced to look away. _Damn,_ he thought, impressed in spite of himself. _He has the gaze of a cobra. I'd really hate to meet the man who could intimidate him. _He sighed inwardly. _I might as well agree to his ridiculous terms — if only to get him to leave me alone. _"Fine," he said shortly.  
  
"I'm glad we see eye-to-eye," Yami stated, his voice laced with sarcasm. He scribbled some numbers on a scrap of paper and handed it to Kaiba. "Here."  
  
Kaiba grunted, shoving the paper into a pocket.  
  
Yami opened his mouth as if he were going to say something else, but changed his mind. With a sigh, he shook his head and left.  
  
After a few moments, Kaiba followed him. He stood in a shadowed doorway and watched the spiky-haired youth join his little friends — _I knew they were going to show up sooner or later,_ he observed dispassionately — and disappear into the murmuring, slightly confused crowd on their way out.  
  
When the last of the unwelcome guests had departed, he approached the little casket on its makeshift bier. Laying a hand on the lid, he stared intently into the polished surface, almost as if he would see his brother instead of his own dim reflection, did he but look long enough. "Mokuba," he whispered, the lump in his throat threatening to set him off again.  
  
A single pearly tear glimmered on the lustrous ebony next to a clenched fist.  
  
"Why the fuck did you take him away from me, you motherfucker…?"

* * *

  
  
Yami said nothing as he joined Yuugi and the others on their way out. He ignored their questions, seemingly lost in thought.  
  
_Yami…?_ his little hikari asked diffidently.  
  
There was no response, only a confused welter of emotions — sorrow, some compassion, and a hint of annoyance were the only ones Yuugi could make out clearly.  
  
_What happened between you two?_ he inquired, curious.  
  
A long pause. _Well,_ Yami finally replied, _suffice it to say that the phone will probably be ringing at odd hours for a while._  
  
_What's **that** supposed to mean?_ Yuugi wondered — but his yami had broken contact. _Why won't he tell me?_

* * *

  
  
The clock struck three, but Kaiba paid it no heed as he stared across the room at the phone on his desk — and the crumpled paper next to it.  
  
Another eternal night, with visions of his brother's death haunting his dreams. Though he had to admit, it was a little better tonight; talking to Yami had helped, after all—  
  
He shook his head. _I won't do it. I **can't** do it. It's gone too far already. This afternoon should never have happened—_  
  
If there was only one thing Kaiba Seto had learned in his life, it was this: Never trust a rival, even if — especially if – he's changed sides.  
  
But the cold night offered no comfort, and the vast emptiness of the house ate away at his soul.  
  
His hand shook slightly as he dialed. _Dammit,_ he told himself fiercely, _if I want to stay sane, I **have** to do this. Why am I so damn jittery?_  
  
_Because you have never reached out to anyone before,_ a voice in the back of his mind whispered, _and it's the hardest thing you've ever had to to — to admit weakness and ask for help._  
  
He scowled. _I really **am** losing it — breaking down crying, voices in my head… what next? _But his musings were interrupted when someone finally picked up on the other end.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
It was Yami. Kaiba sagged in relief, then mentally slapped himself for doing so. Still, he hated to think what would have happened if Yuugi or his grandpa had answered the phone, leaving plenty of room for the situation to become embarrassing.  
  
"It's me," he said finally. "I…"  
  
"Can't sleep?" finished the other.  
  
He sighed. "Yeah. I keep having these dreams…"  
  
"Would you like to tell me about them…? If you're up to it, that is," Yami added, with no trace of scorn or pity in his voice.  
  
And, hesitating only for a moment, Kaiba did.

* * *

9 December 2002.

To be continued.


	3. Fire and Ice

**NEWTON'S THIRD** by Kiraya  
  
An Additional Disclaimer: Did I mention there'd be some OOC…?  
  
Stream-of-consciousness. Yami's POV.

* * *

  
  
From the moment I first met Kaiba Seto, I admired him. Even though he was consumed by that unwholesome lust for power, I could sense his genius. What a brilliant mind he has…!  
  
Even if I **am** a better duelist than he is, it's nice to know that there's someone out there who can give me a run for my money — what an odd expression! — in an honest duel.  
  
I've never understood why he holds — held? Perhaps, someday — such a grudge against Yuugi and myself for defeating him in our first match.  
  
Oh, Yuugi…! It hurts, not being able to tell him. I can sense his confusion, his worry. He keeps nothing hidden from me, and he can't understand why I won't tell him what happened between Kaiba and myself today — besides what he saw, of course. Which he technically shouldn't know about, anyway…  
  
But I won't come right out and break a promise. Even such an absurd one as that I made to Kaiba.  
  
I knew Mokuba's death would hit him pretty hard. But I never expected him to break down like that. What could I do but hold him until his tears were gone…?  
  
Yes, I could have just left him there. But only a cold-hearted bastard would do something like that — and cold-hearted bastard is one thing I most certainly am not.  
  
(Gods, that sounded pompous.)  
  
I was a bit surprised when he didn't immediately pull away, after he had cried himself out. Actually, I was almost glad he didn't; those few fleeting moments when he leaned against me gave me this extraordinary feeling of… something. I don't know. I can't even begin to describe it. Whatever it was, some crazy impulse made me hold him tighter.  
  
I think I frightened him, with that. Ma'at knows I scared myself half to death.  
  
What in the Afterworld was I thinking, anyway…?

* * *

  
  
I wasn't sure if he'd actually accept my offer of counsel. I was happy he called, though. It really does make grief easier to deal with, if you have someone to talk to.  
  
And boy, does Kaiba need someone to talk to. I just **know** he'd go suicidal without help — Mokuba meant that much to him. And it would be quite a shame if he killed himself. The loss of such a brilliant mind — not to mention those looks — would be a terrible one.  
  
What can I say? I've always found his appearance and form appealing — because of my highly refined aesthetic tastes, of course.  
  
(Ooh, that was horrible. I've been so full of it, lately…)  
  
Anyway, he invited me to the burial tomorrow — well, no, actually. Later today, seeing as it's nearly ten to four.  
  
Bleh. I can't even think straight anymore. I'm going back to bed.

* * *

  
  
It started snowing this morning — wet, nasty, slushy stuff. (How I loathe this freezing climate!) Seto and I were the only ones at the cemetery. I guess he didn't want the kind of people who came to the viewing yesterday offering their sugar-coated false sympathy. (Not that they'd have come, anyway, with the weather as foul as it is.) It was a simple ceremony, really — nothing more than a few words spoken over the body before it was interred.  
  
That was when it finally hit home, I think. That his brother was gone. He lost it again — and it was even worse than it had been the first time.  
  
That same feeling crept over me again as he sobbed into my jacket. Except now… now I know what it was. What it **is**.  
  
Gods help me, I can't deny it.  
  
I've fallen in love with Kaiba Seto.

* * *

  
  
So. I've finally admitted it to myself. I don't know when my admiration changed form on me… but I do know it wasn't just an instantaneous thing. It's been growing, developing in a hidden corner of my being, for a long time — and it's only now come to light.  
  
There's no possible way I can tell him, of course. He's going through some tough times, and he needs a friend — if I can even consider myself **that** — to help him. Not a lover, who'd just complicate things even more…  
  
Me? Kaiba Seto's lover? Not in a thousand years. I mean, look at him — rich, handsome, intelligent… He could have his pick of anyone, male or female, he wanted; under what circumstances would he ever choose me? Especially considering our past.  
  
But then again, who'd have thought he'd ask me, and only me, to his brother's burial, either…?  
  
When he's recovered some, perhaps… although I have no idea how I'd go about pursuing a relationship with him, anyway. I guess that's one of the disadvantages of having been a pharaoh. For a sovereign, it's always encouraging or fending off **others'** advances, never the other way around. And in the rare cases when the ruler does pay court to someone… well, they're usually so flattered by his attentions that they don't even consider pushing him away.  
  
We'll just have to wait and see.  
  
If I can control myself. I only hope I'll be able to, for his sake.

* * *

11 December 2002.

To be continued.


	4. Tempus Fugit

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya  
  
Stream-of-consciousness. Kaiba's POV.

* * *

  
  
I was rather surprised when I looked at the calendar this morning.  
  
The day after tomorrow, it'll be a year since I lost my little brother.  
  
Time is strange. It feels like it's been so much longer, but at the same time, I can remember it as if it happened yesterday…  
  
Don't think about it, dammit!  
  
Has it really been an entire year — only a year? — since Mokuba was killed, since my world fell apart, since I let down my guard and allowed someone I'd always thought of as an enemy to help me pick up the pieces?  
  
I thought it was a mistake at the time, letting Yami get involved in my life. But, looking back now, I have to admit my assessment that first night, before I called him, was correct. I **had** to do it, for the sake of my sanity. Otherwise I'd probably have followed my brother from this world not long after his burial.  
  
I still have the dreams, but not as bad, or as often, as I used to. In the beginning, I would call Yami every night — I couldn't sleep at all otherwise. Now, most nights, I at least get enough rest to function. All those early-morning talks helped more than I can possibly say.  
  
But they got him in trouble, at one point. I had an extended business trip to New York about three weeks after Mokuba died, and I was still having a lot of trouble dealing, so there was a great deal of calling back and forth. When the monthly phone bill arrived at the Mutou household, a certain old gameshop owner became quite upset — and, to help pay for it, made Yami get a job at the local McDonald's.  
  
It lasted all of a week. And they still won't serve him there.  
  
But he eventually found another job — one that doesn't involve rancid fry grease and cranky old ladies. And one that pays a hell of a lot more than minimum wage.  
  
Sure, he's got the looks for a model, but I still have trouble picturing him as one — except when I look out my office window and see the enormous billboard just down the road, featuring the King of Games clad in the hottest stuff from some chic European company's new fall clothing line…  
  
Damn. Those tight-fitting leather pants should be illegal.

* * *

  
  
Well, Yuugi knows, now, what happened between Yami and me the day of the viewing. But it doesn't bother me like I thought it would. They're so close; I could tell the subterfuge was painful for both of them. And I could also tell it was one of the hardest things Yami's ever had to do, keeping secrets from the one he calls aibou.  
  
He really is a good kid, once you get to know him. Reminds me a lot of Mokuba. I still can't stand any of his friends, though… not that I ever expected to be able to.  
  
It's kind of eerie how similar the two of them look, Yami and Yuugi, considering the fact that they're not actually related. Yami tells me that they're telepathically connected through that Millennium Puzzle — more like brothers-in-spirit than anything else.  
  
But the way they act — Yami so solicitous of his younger companion, who looks to him for help and guidance — it's hard to believe they're not blood kin. Sometimes it hurts, watching them. It makes me think of my little brother and me, together, before…  
  
I don't think I want to pursue this line of thought any further. I may be learning to deal with my loss, but some memories, I think, will always cause me pain.

* * *

  
  
I like to consider Yami my friend — if not the only one I've ever had, the only one I can remember. I can be completely open with him in a way I can't with anyone else. It's refreshing, being able to let down one's guard and act like yourself, not like people expect you to be.  
  
I've finally beaten him in a duel. Six times. Of course, that really doesn't mean too much when you look at the fact that we duel almost every day… And he did seem rather distracted those times, like his heart really wasn't in it.  
  
Ah, well. The fact that he's a better duelist than I somehow doesn't bother me as much as it used to.  
  
Besides, I can cook better than he can.  
  
(That sounded incredibly… stupid, didn't it…?)  
  
He started giving me lessons a couple of months ago, and so far I've been able to surpass every one of his dishes, much to his (pleased) annoyance.  
  
There's only one thing he can make that I can't.

* * *

  
  
_Suddenly, there was a yell from across the kitchen. "Aha!"  
  
"What is it?" I asked, looking up from the vegetables I had been dicing.  
  
Yami turned to face me, smiling broadly. Licking the fingers of one hand, he held up a tiny cake in the other. "Try this," he said, and popped it into my mouth.  
  
It was out of this world. Crisp, thin layers of flaky pastry and finely chopped nuts drenched with the golden sweetness of honey… Sighing, I licked my lips. "Mmm… what **was** that?"  
  
"Baklava, a Russian pastry," came the reply. "Yuugi's 'jii-san picked up this recipe some years ago in his travels, but completely forgot he had it lying around the house. I found it the other day when I was looking for something interesting to try."  
  
"Let me see that," I said eagerly, reaching past him for the slightly yellowed paper.  
  
Grabbing it first, Yami hid it behind his back. "Not on your life," he scolded. "Can't have the student outdoing the teacher in everything, hmm? I think I'll keep this one for myself." He grinned up at me, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.  
  
_Such an unusual colour,_ I mused, feeling slightly lightheaded. _Nice, though…_I snorted. "And I think someone's on a sugar high," I snapped, glaring at him peevishly._  
  
_His grin simply grew broader, and he laughed.  
_

* * *

  
  
I wonder… what must it be like to be really close to someone? So close that, if you tried hard enough, you could know what they were feeling; sense their thoughts; perhaps even understand what's going on behind that strange, almost wistful look in their eyes — that look that always makes you feel as giddy as a lovestruck—  
  
There it goes again; lately, my mind's had a distressing tendency towards wandering off all sorts of places on crazy tangents. But I have to admit they're pleasant, in a slightly odd, feels-like-I'm-on-some-insane-thrill-ride sort of way—  
  
Get a **hold** of yourself, Seto. Before you start composing bad poetry or some such rubbish.  
  
Ugh. Can you imagine — me, writing poetry? "Bad" probably wouldn't even begin to describe it. Perhaps, with some practice — about three million years' worth, or so…  
  
But how **do** you respond to that strange, wistful look in those beautiful eyes, to the tenderness in the gaze that, for some reason, makes the whole world spin out of your control? Do you pretend you don't notice it, or do you… do you…?  
  
It scares me, a little. But at the same time…  
  
At the same time…

* * *

18 December 2002.

To be continued.


	5. The Long Dark

**NEWTON'S THIRD** by Kiraya  
  
Thanks to Crimson Tears for the correction about baklava, that most divine of desserts; the chapter's been fixed. And Soulwindow — "Sic Transit Vir" **is** the title of a Babylon 5 episode. I thought it somewhat appropriate, though; it's Latin for "thus passes man." But the rest of 'em are my own creations — as far as I know.

* * *

  
  
Kaiba Seto lay sprawled across his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. His head throbbed. His eyes burned. Every nerve in his body was painfully taut with agony.  
  
But the one thing that hurt him most of all was his aching heart.  
  
Kaiba Seto lay sprawled across his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Every ounce of his strength went into his struggle to avoid confronting the memories. But somewhere in the haze of exhaustion that fogged his mind, he knew already that his efforts would be in vain.

* * *

  
  
Yami watched the rain patter gently against the classroom windows, ignoring the droning voice of the history teacher, who was lecturing them on ancient civilisations. _I already know all this stuff even better than he does. __Remind me why I'm here, again?_ he said to Yuugi through their link, yawning.  
  
_How should I know? You're the one who decided you wanted to see what modern education was like — or so you said…_ This last carried a sly tone, quite unlike what Yami had come to expect from his hikari.  
  
Unbidden, the image of a familiar blue-eyed youth formed in Yami's mind. _Oh,_ he thought stupidly, flushing slightly. Yuugi had found out about his attraction to Kaiba quite some time ago; the boy had a useful — and damned inconvenient — talent for getting information out of people without them fully realising what he was doing. _Where is Seto today, anyway—_  
  
"Oh, **shit**!" he exclaimed suddenly, ruby eyes widening.  
  
Snickering, the entire class turned to look at him. Scowling over the tops of his horn-rimmed glasses, the teacher asked acidly, "Was there something, Mutou-kun?"  
  
Yami's face reddened, and he sunk down into his seat. "Gomen nasai, sensei. I just realised I forgot… something important," he finished lamely.  
  
The teacher raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. Well, keep your realisations to yourself henceforth, if you please. Now," he said, turning back to the class, "if we may continue our discussion of Ramses II…"  
  
_A relative of yours, I believe,_ Yuugi commented, his mindvoice coloured with amusement. _Now, what was **that**—_  
  
But then the bell rang, and there was a mad stampede for the door. "Don't forget to work on your culture projects," the teacher called after them. "They're due next Friday. Have a good weekend."  
  
"We should really start ours soon, Yami," Yuugi commented as they headed out. "Busy this afternoon?"  
  
"Actually, yes," the former pharaoh admitted, hurriedly stuffing his books into his worn old knapsack. _That's what I had forgotten — it's a year today since Mokuba died,_ he continued in the privacy of their minds. _I figured Seto might not be here today, and I wanted to stop by his house after school to check up on him. I should be home by ten, at the absolute latest._  
  
Yuugi nodded.  
  
Yami suddenly knelt and embraced his aibou. "Thank you," he said simply, before turning and sprinting off into the rain.

* * *

  
  
The Kaiba mansion was dark and silent. _Must have given his staff the day off,_ Yami mused as he wandered through the cold halls, looking for the house's sole occupant.  
  
He wasn't in his lab, or his study. The spacious, well-appointed kitchen, where they had spent so much time the past few months, was also empty. _The master suite, then,_ Yami concluded, and went upstairs.  
  
Even the suite's small parlour was empty. Crossing the room, Yami cautiously opened the bedroom door. "Seto?"  
  
The young billionaire lay on his bed with his back to the door, tightly curled into a fetal position. At the sound of his name, he turned. "Yami?" he asked hoarsely, sitting up. His clothing was all rumpled, the open collar of his shirt revealing a glimpse of his well-muscled—  
  
_Stop it! _Yami hissed at himself. _Now is definitely **not** the time. _"Yeah," he responded aloud, a bit unsteadily.  
  
Disheveled brown hair partially obscured Kaiba's blue eyes, glazed with misery as he gazed mutely at the former pharaoh.  
  
Yami sat down on the edge of the bed. "Talk to me," he said softly.  
  
Kaiba sat back against the head of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. He sighed. "It all keeps replaying itself in my mind, like a bad movie. And every time I close my eyes…"  
  
Yami moved next to him. "The nightmares?" he asked.  
  
Kaiba nodded. "I thought I was learning to deal with it," he said bitterly. "I thought I was going to be okay, that the dreams and the memories would eventually fade. But here it is, a whole year later, and it's just like no time at all has passed…" He stared at the floor. "Why did it have to happen?" he asked suddenly, his voice angry. "The bastard that did it walked away with only a few scrapes and a mild concussion. Why couldn't he have been the one to die, instead of just rotting in jail for what he did to my little brother?" He buried his face in Yami's shoulder. "Oh, Yami…" he murmured brokenly. "I miss him so much…"  
  
The former pharaoh reassuringly held the brokenhearted youth until he wept himself into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

  
  
Yami was becoming desperate.  
  
Four agonisingly slow hours had passed, with Kaiba Seto still sleeping against him. Yet his steady breathing as he slumbered peacefully was not at all soothing.  
  
It was driving him absolutely insane.  
  
He held the young billionaire in a gentle embrace and tried to think about something else — **anything** else.  
  
But damned if it wasn't the most difficult thing he'd ever done. He was acutely aware of the slightest contact between himself and the pleasant warmth of his companion—  
  
_Stop it! _he told himself fiercely. _You **have** to restrain yourself, for his sake._  
  
_You could just go, right now,_ a voice in the back of his head whispered. _Spare yourself the agony of sitting here with him in your arms…_  
  
_No…! Not until he wakes up, at least. I don't want him to feel like I abandoned him._  
  
_No,_ the voice replied. _You just don't want to leave him._  
  
He leaned back and closed his eyes, sighing heavily. _Gods help me,_ he thought. _I__ don't think I could…_

* * *

  
  
Kaiba Seto woke slowly. He looked at the clock, his eyes widening in surprise — he had gotten almost seven hours of real sleep. He sighed — and felt his companion tense up. "Yami…?" he asked tentatively.  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
"Ten thirty."  
  
"I have to go," Yami said huskily, hurriedly rising.  
  
Kaiba felt a sudden irrational surge of panic. "No!" he said loudly, causing the former pharaoh to pause. "The nightmares…" He shivered. _I never thought this would happen, but… I **need** him. I don't think I could stand being alone with the memories, tonight… _In a small voice he asked, "Stay with me… please?"  
  
Yami stared at him for a moment, then turned away. Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard. "I… I can't," he moaned, his voice breaking.  
  
Kaiba got up slowly. "Why?"  
  
Yami looked at him helplessly before once more averting his gaze.  
  
"Talk to me," Kaiba said softly, moving closer. "What is it?"  
  
"I…" Yami began, but then shook his head, still refusing to look at his companion.  
  
Kaiba came still nearer. "Tell me… why won't you stay?"  
  
"Seto," Yami said heatedly, "you can't possibly know what you're asking me to—" He broke off suddenly as he met Kaiba's gaze. _Hathor, have mercy,_ he prayed silently, closing his eyes as a tear trickled down his cheek. _I__ can't do this…_  
  
Then came a whisper, so low that he wasn't even sure if he'd really heard it.  
  
"Perhaps I can help ease your pain, as you have helped ease mine."  
  
_Either he's gone crazy, or I have,_ Yami thought, opening his eyes to stare incredulously at his friend.  
  
A shy, sad smile appeared on Kaiba's face, so close to his own just then…  
  
The last of Yami's resolve crumbled as the tattered remains of his self-control slipped through his fingers. He kissed the object of his desire fiercely, so caught up in the vortex of his emotions that he took no notice of Kaiba's response—

* * *

  
  
The moon broke through the clouds above, shining in her solitary glory upon the peacefully sleeping city, flooding the streets with pure silver.  
  
The dreams did not come to Kaiba Seto that night.

* * *

19 December 2002.

To be continued.


	6. Dawn and Epimetheus

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya

There's a bit of Yami/Yuugi fluff in this chapter, but it doesn't really mean anything — their relationship here is nothing more than close friendship/almost siblinghood, and it's staying thus. And Soulwindow — "The Long Dark" does sound awfully B5-ish, doesn't it? I don't **think** it's the title of any of the episodes… but then again, I haven't seen the show in a long time, and I don't remember many of the later episodes (late fourth season, most of fifth) at all…

Enough babbling. On with the story!

* * *

  
  
The sun was in his eyes. The King of Games growled faintly and rolled over, away from the window and toward the bed's other occupant.  
  
Yami propped himself up with one arm and watched Kaiba Seto sleep. Tenderly caressing the other's smooth cheek, he brushed away a stray wisp of hair. He longed to run his fingers through it again, to enjoy its silky texture…  
  
But Yami didn't want to disturb him — Seto looked so peaceful, lying there with just a hint of a smile touching his mouth. The former pharaoh ached to taste its sweet softness again.  
  
He leaned over and gently brushed the young billionaire's lips with his own, drawing back with a heavy sigh.  
  
Yami rose from the bed and dressed. Crossing the room, he put his hand on the doorknob, but paused. For a long moment, he simply stood there.  
  
"Goodbye, Seto," he whispered, and left, closing the door behind him.

* * *

  
  
Kaiba Seto lay in bed, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.  
  
So, Yami was gone. If he had ever really been there.  
  
Kaiba Seto lay in bed, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. He idly wondered if the whole thing had been a dream, but then decided that was impossible. Since his brother died, he had had one or two weird-but-not-bad dreams among all the nightmares, but never any genuinely pleasant ones. Besides, dreams did not feel so… so…  
  
His face reddened slightly.  
  
What Yami wanted was easily apparent. The look in his eyes had broadcast his emotions more eloquently than mere words ever could. And it had been just as obvious that he'd been trying hard to hold back his ardor — until the one he loved stopped him in his tracks.  
  
_"Perhaps I can help ease your pain, as you have helped ease mine."  
_  
He had no idea why he had spoken those words. It had seemed like the right thing to say, at the time.  
  
_In retrospect,_ murmured the voice in the back of his head, _you couldn't have said anything better._  
  
His blush deepened.  
  
Kaiba Seto lay in bed, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. The sun slowly climbed higher in the sky as he tried to sort through the tangled mess that was his emotions.  
  
Eventually he gave up, rising with a sigh. He had to do something about Yami; that much was clear. The question was… what?  
  
He needed to take some time to think about it. But first… breakfast. And whatever paperwork he should have done yesterday. And then he had to finish packing for that conference in San Francisco…  
  
The King of Games would have to wait.

* * *

  
  
Yami slowly walked down the hall, stepping softly so as not to disturb his hikari, who was lounging on the couch in the living room, watching his favorite Saturday morning cartoons.  
  
But his efforts did not go unnoticed.  
  
"Finally," was all Yuugi said, sitting up as he turned off the TV. "Now sit."  
  
Yami did so, warily. He could feel that his aibou was not happy — _what an understatement! he_ thought wryly — and it was clearly an effort for him to keep his temper controlled.  
  
There was a pregnant pause, and then Yuugi completely lost it.  
  
"Where the hell have you **been**?" he shouted angrily. "_I should be home by ten, at the absolute latest,_ you said. Well, here it is, eight thirty in the morning—"  
  
"That **is** before ten," Yami protested mildly, without thinking.  
  
Yuugi unleashed a string of expletives that utterly shocked the former pharaoh; he would never have imagined hearing such things out of his seemingly-innocent little hikari, not even in his most bizarre dreams. "That's not what you meant, and you damn well know it!" the smaller boy snapped. "I've been up all night, going insane with worry — for all I knew, you could have been raped, or mugged, or lying dead in a gutter somewhere, or… or…!"  
  
"If anybody had tried to do something like that to me, I could have easily used Mind Crush on them," Yami pointed out. _But when you're fretting over someone you care about, you don't remember things like that._  
  
Another awkward pause.  
  
"You still haven't told me where you were all night," Yuugi finally muttered, calmer now that he had lost some steam. "And couldn't you at least have had the decency to call?"  
  
"I never left the Kaiba mansion. As for calling…" The former pharaoh blushed, and cursed himself for doing so. "I… the thought never occurred to me," he admitted honestly.  
  
"What happened?" his aibou asked suddenly, snuggling up to him.  
  
Yami sighed. _He'll find out sooner or later anyway… I might as well get it over with. _Wrapping his arms around the smaller boy, he told him.  
  
Yuugi was silent for a moment. "You don't seem too happy about it, and one would assume you would be… all things considered."  
  
"I shouldn't have done it. I should have controlled myself. He looked to me for consolation — he trusted me to ease his pain—"  
  
_"Perhaps I can help ease your pain, as you have helped ease mine."  
_  
Yami shook his head. _It was a figment of your imagination,_ he told himself sadly. _Just a product of your fevered dreams — though I wish so much that it was real…! _"I took advantage of him, betrayed that trust. And for what? To satisfy my own selfish desires." He laughed shortly. "I was a shoulder to cry on when the memories hurt more than he could stand — the only one he could talk to, the only friend he really had. And I blew it all away in one night."  
  
_But what an unbelievable night it was! _whispered the voice in the back of his head. He shivered.  
  
"There's no way I could ever expect him to trust me after that. He'd go nuts wondering if I were going to do it all over again — and I'm too fond of him to let him do that to himself."  
  
"Fond?"  
  
The King of Games rested his chin on the smaller boy's head and sighed. "If that's the way you're going to be, fine — I'm in love with him."  
  
Yuugi concealed a smile. _So he's decided at last to tell me that his feelings for Kaiba-kun go beyond the physical attraction he confessed. All I can say is it's about time._  
  
"—should have their best interests at heart," his darker half was saying. "And it would be in his best interests if I just stayed out of his life."  
  
He frowned. "But Yami," he interjected, "what if—"  
  
"Yesterday was quite a step back on the road to recovery, true, but soon he should be back to his old, self-sufficient… well, self," the former pharaoh continued, speaking more to himself than to his light. "Except friendlier, and not so ill-disposed toward us — I hope…" He sighed disconsolately. "Anyway. When that happens, perhaps, I can approach him and—"  
  
Yuugi rolled his eyes. He'd been through this before — you just couldn't talk to a person when they got like this. Pretty much all you could do was sit and listen them out.  
  
_Never seen it happen to Yami before, though,_ murmured a small voice in his head.  
  
"—true extent of his feelings. If he only wanted to be friends again, that would be better than nothing — I guess it would be too much to hope for, that he—"  
  
Yuugi closed his eyes and let the other's words wash over him. Try as he might, he could not stifle a yawn.  
  
Yami broke off his ruminations mid-word. "I'm sorry, aibou. You must be exhausted — which leaves me no choice…" Smiling slightly, he scooped up the smaller boy and carried him upstairs.  
  
"Let me down, Yami," the other protested. "I can walk, you know."  
  
"I know," the King of Games replied, but didn't put him down until he arrived at their room, where he deposited Yuugi in his bed. "Now sleep, my light," he instructed, tucking the blankets up around his aibou's chin. "There's nothing to worry about anymore — everything's fine." _For you, anyway._  
  
His little hikari yawned again. "Will you be here?" he asked sleepily.  
  
"I'll be here," the former pharaoh assured him, taking a seat on his own bed.  
  
Satisfied, Yuugi closed his eyes, falling asleep almost immediately. Yami sat and watched him slumber until he, too, dozed off.  
  
And then he dreamed, and his dreams brought tears to his eyes — tears for things regrettable, yet so sweet; tears for improbable-yet-pleasurable camaraderie — now lost, more likely than not…  
  
Tears for love.

* * *

27 December 2002.

To be continued.


	7. Farewell

**NEWTON'S THIRD** by Kiraya  
  
Forty-seven reviews, huh? I've always been fond of that number, for some reason.  
  
Night fell, and morning followed: Sunday.  
  
Leaning against his bedroom wall, Yami wondered if he could hold to the resolution he had made yesterday. _It'll be difficult,_ he told himself, _but I think I can manage. I **hope** I can manage. At least for a little while…_  
  
_But what if, when you approach him again, he rejects even your friendship? _whispered the voice in the back of his head. _Or what if he accepts it and wishes nothing more than that? What will you do if he does not return your feelings in the way you desire…?_  
  
The former pharaoh shook his head. _I… I__ don't know._  
  
A small mumbling intruded on his thoughts. He turned his gaze upon a cocoon of blankets on the other bed and smiled slightly; the only way one knew his light was in there was by the coverlet's steady rise and fall — and by the tri-colored hair that peeked out. _I love him so much. He's always there for me — whether in body or in spirit. His companionship would help dull the pain._  
  
But it would not be the same.  
  
_No,_ he agreed, his smile fading, _it would not. _He sighed. _I love Yuugi like the twin people think he is to me — very much indeed. But it's nothing like what I feel for Seto. Both emotions are so profound as to be beyond full comprehension — but while one is brotherly, the other is passionate…_  
  
_It would not be the same at all._  
  
He brooded over it for a while before dozing off again.

* * *

  
  
"Hey, Yami. Wake up — or are you not planning on breakfast before you go to the airport?"  
  
"Airport?" he mumbled, looking up at his aibou, who was shaking him gently.  
  
"Yeah," Yuugi said. "Kaiba-kun's leaving for his big meeting in San Francisco today, and you said you'd go and see him off." He grinned. "Don't tell me you don't remember – you've only been mentioning it to me at least once a day for nearly a week."  
  
"Ah. Yes, I remember." He sat up. "I'm not going," he declared firmly.  
  
His lighter half rolled his eyes. "You do realise that you're being ridiculous, don't you?"  
  
"I'm not being ridiculous," the King of Games replied, even though the other's words stung a little. "I mean to hold by what I said yesterday. I'll see you downstairs in a bit," he concluded, crossing the hall to the bathroom and firmly closing the door behind him.  
  
_You shouldn't draw away from him, you know. The two of you have to talk about it — the sooner, the better,_ hikari told yami through their link.  
  
_No. It really would be in his best interests if I just stayed out of his life for a while,_ came the stubborn reply.  
  
Yuugi's eyes narrowed. _I don't think this has so much do to with Kaiba-kun's best interests,_ he observed shrewdly, _but rather your own. **You're** the one who doesn't trust yourself to stay in control around him anymore. **You're** the one who's going insane wondering if it'll happen again._  
  
Yami's only response was an injured silence.  
  
The smaller boy shook his head in exasperation and headed downstairs to help his 'jii-chan make breakfast.

* * *

  
  
Yami moved with deliberate slowness that morning, ignoring his mind's desperate urgings to hurry as he took his time completing his morning routine. He even lingered long over their morning repast, though he only picked at his food.  
  
Though Yuugi frowned at him across the table, he would not meet his light's challenging gaze.  
  
The former pharaoh finally laid down his fork and rose with a sigh. "I'm going for a walk," he announced. "I should be back in two hours at the most."  
  
"Dress warmly," the elderly Motou said without looking up from his crossword.  
  
His little grandson simply smiled.

* * *

  
  
Kaiba Seto put down his novel with a sigh. He'd be boarding the plane shortly, thankfully. The flight should give him an opportunity to clear his head, and perhaps sort out his feelings…  
  
"Rows five through nine, please."  
  
He stood up and retrieved his carryon from under his seat. _Last in line **again**,_ he noted sourly, glowering.  
  
There were only a couple people left ahead of him when a sudden warning tingling from the back of his neck made him turn.

* * *

  
  
Yami peered at the sign next to the rapidly diminishing line of people. _Flight 117, to San Francisco. _He growled at himself. _I shouldn't be here. Why in the Afterworld did I come here—_  
  
And then the final person in line turned and looked back.  
  
Equally startled, wine-hued eyes met deep azure.  
  
For a long time, they simply stared at each other across the terminal, Yami's gaze nervously questioning, Seto's unreadable as conflicting emotions flickered across his face. The young CEO opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then closed it, shaking his head slightly as he turned, giving the flight attendant his ticket and boarding the plane.  
  
Yami's heart sank as he turned and walked away. It was very cold, and a long way home, but he didn't feel like taking a taxi right now.

* * *

  
  
"Did you enjoy your walk, Yami?" Yuugi asked knowingly as his darker half came in, shivering.  
  
"Not at all," he growled irritably, stamping his booted feet to warm them. "I kept slipping." He showed his light a rather bruised arm.  
  
Yuugi blinked. "Um. Don't tell me you forgot to look out for patches of ice again."  
  
The King of Games smiled to himself mockingly. "Couldn't. I was too busy regretting that we ever met Kaiba Seto."  
  
A long pause.  
  
"Would you care to tell me what happened?" Yuugi asked delicately.  
  
"Not really, no. Let's just keep working on that history project, shall we?"  
  
The culture they had chosen was, unsurprisingly, ancient Egypt — an extensive topic, but not at all difficult, especially when one was lucky enough to have a former pharaoh as one's partner. Yami insisted on doing an entire sub-report on the Shadow Games, but Yuugi didn't mind — he was utterly fascinated by the subject. They worked in relative silence, every one of the shorter boy's tentative mental inquiries rebuffed, firmly but not ungently, by his brooding companion. Nothing changed after they took a break for lunch, and Yuugi grew increasingly disheartened as afternoon progressed to evening. He had just suggested stopping for the day, a proposition that Yami readily agreed to, when Yuugi's grandfather entered.  
  
"Would it bother you boys terribly if I watched the news?" he asked, settling himself in front of the television.  
  
"Not at all, 'Jii-chan," Yuugi assured him. "We were just finishing up for today anyway."  
  
They all watched in silence for a while until the aggravated Motou Sugoroku was called away to the kitchen by the oven buzzer.  
  
Yami had gotten up and begun gathering some of the various materials they had been using when his aibou frowned suddenly and said, "What plane was Kaiba-kun on?"  
  
The King of Games told him. "Why?"  
  
"Oh, shit," muttered the smaller boy.  
  
"What is it?" his darker half asked suspiciously, slightly startled by his light's language. Again.  
  
Yuugi simply gestured to the TV, his expression grim.  
  
The blood drained from Yami's face as he collapsed back on the couch. His mind reeled as he stared blankly at the screen, listening in shocked disbelief to the anchorwoman's voice.  
  
"…went down late this afternoon about a thousand kilometres northwest of Midway in a sudden, violent storm. American Marines are assisting in the as-yet fruitless search for survivors…"

* * *

29 December 2002.

To be continued.  
  
Would I be so cruel as to kill him off? Would I? Would I so mercilessly snatch away Yami's highly delectable beloved when he has only just begun to look at the King of Games in _that way_? Would I so utterly devastate our most appealing pharaoh by—  
  
Rhaithe: Don't toy with them unless you're planning to eat them, dear. It's impolite.  
  
sulks Fine. But I must insist on leaving you all with nothing more than this. Until the next chapter, _zhai'helleva_.


	8. Lost and Found

**NEWTON'S THIRD** by Kiraya  
  
acks as she is buried alive by "Don't you **dare** kill Seto-sama" reviews Yami Cleopatra, dilanda… it **was** his plane. pause Bwahahahaaaa deteriorates into hacking cough

* * *

  
  
_Yami…_  
  
His light's mindvoice seemed distant, and he shrank from it even further, wrapping himself tighter around the knot of agony that twisted inside him. He'd rather be alone with the darkness, right now.  
  
_Yami, answer me. Please?_  
  
"I think I need to go lie down," he mumbled groggily, rising to his feet and staggering from the room. And then he was on his bed, staring blankly across at the opposite wall.  
  
A part of him idly wondered what had happened to the stairs.  
  
Yuugi came in, looking anxiously at his darker half. He lay there holding his knees tight against his chest, his vague expression unable to hide the pain obvious in his dark red eyes.  
  
The smaller boy sat down, laying a comforting hand on Yami's shoulder.  
  
The King of Games moved his head to rest in his hikari's lap. They sat that way for a long time in silence broken only by the quiet drip of tears on Yuugi's knees.  
  
"I wish," Yami said suddenly, "that our last meeting could have been on slightly better terms, at least."  
  
"Tell me about it?" Yuugi asked hesitantly.  
  
His companion did so.  
  
There was an extended pause, and then Yami spoke again.  
  
"You were right, aibou — I **have** to talk to him about what happened Friday night. Nothing will be helped if we just dance around trying to avoid each other." He sighed heavily. "But what if we — I — never see him again? They could search for months and still not find any trace of him." His voice became so hushed as to be almost inaudible. "What if… what if he didn't make it?"  
  
"You can't give up faith," came the soft reply. "And you know Kaiba-kun — he has a habit of weathering tough situations pretty well. I'm sure he's probably doing okay…"  
  
Yami voiced his light's own unspoken thought.  
  
"I hope…"

* * *

  
  
The sun was setting again. The supine youth glowered at it in annoyance — the glare in his dry and bloodshot blue eyes did not make things any easier. And with its descent, the bitter cold would simply get even worse.  
  
_Worthless piece of shit,_ he thought acidly.  
  
They had been adrift for nearly three days, give or take an hour. They had no water at all, and their only food had been half a soggy bag of barbecue potato chips, long since finished.  
  
He still had his dueling deck, at least. Not that it really mattered at this point — it wasn't as if he could drink his dragons, though at this point he would gladly have given all three of them for half a shotglass of potable water…  
  
_Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink. _He licked parched, cracked lips with a dried-out tongue. Somewhere in his delirium, he realized that none of them could last much longer. Those six or seven people he shared the raft with were all lying motionless — either unconscious or dead, he wasn't sure which. Not that he really cared anymore.  
  
He watched his thoughts skitter like wind-driven leaves with a vague amusement. It was all so pointless, really. Pointless, pointless…  
  
A shadow fell across his vision.  
  
He squinted at the small figure he remembered so very well, standing at his feet with the sun at its back, and smiled, a bit sadly. "I'm coming, little brother."  
  
The figure shook its head and moved closer, changing as it did so. It knelt next to him, a great deal taller, yet just as familiar — and, though it he had only realised it after nearly three days of intense reflection, just as deeply loved.  
  
_Took you long enough, stubborn idiot,_ muttered the voice in the back of his head. He ignored it.  
  
His eyes widened. "You…" he rasped.  
  
The figure smiled at him gently, ruby-coloured eyes affectionate.  
  
"I… I'm going to miss you," he whispered hoarsely, reaching up with a wind-chapped hand to touch its face.  
  
The figure vanished.  
  
He let his head fall back and his arm drop with a disappointed sigh. Closing his eyes, he waited for the end.  
  
Time passed. The gilded wavelets dulled as the sun sank further.  
  
The raft bumped gently against something.  
  
He opened his eyes and curiously peered upward — it was quite a long way, actually — at a small crowd of uniformed men staring over the rail of a ship. At him.  
  
"It's okay," one of them, no more than a few years older than himself, yelled down in rudimentary Japanese. "Everything's going to be fine, now…"  
  
Darkness claimed Kaiba Seto.

* * *

30 December 2002.

To be continued.


	9. Reunion

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya

* * *

  
  
The sun was setting again. Yami stared out to sea at it for a long while, then resumed aimlessly wandering the harbour, just as he had every evening for most of the past week.  
  
It was Friday, and there was still no news of Seto. He had heard two or three widely scattered lifeboats holding survivors had been found, but nothing any more specific.  
  
He looked gloomily at the dusky sky again, then turned toward home.  
  
"Yami!"  
  
The King of Games missed a step. He looked over his shoulder, hoping against hope that he wasn't just hearing things…  
  
And there he was, looking a bit worse for the wear, but alive and well, standing at the end of a wharf at which an American military cruiser had just moored under an hour ago.  
  
Yami smiled broadly and began to walk quickly toward the source of the shout. "Kaiba Seto!" he yelled in mock anger. "If you **ever** pull something like that again, I swear I'll—" He stopped abruptly as the brown-haired youth ran across the intervening space and swept him into a tight hug. The former pharaoh's shoulders shook as he returned the embrace, whether from laughter or tears he knew not. He was a little surprised by the young CEO's exuberant display of friendliness. _Something's changed. He used to seem somehow stiff, unyielding, but now he's much more relaxed. _"Thank all the gods you're all right," he whispered brokenly.  
  
"No," Seto corrected, pulling away to look at him, "thank **you**." He laughed as his friend blinked, confused. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"  
  
Neither minded the chilly distance they had to go. They walked close together, not quite touching, saying little, merely enjoying each other's company. It seemed as if hardly any time at all had passed when they reached the game shop and stopped just outside.  
  
"Yami," Seto said after a long pause, "we need to talk."  
  
The spiky-haired youth flashed a nervous smile at his boots. "…I know."  
  
"I… wanted to put flowers on Mokuba's grave tomorrow. Maybe we could… if you wouldn't mind coming with me…"  
  
The King of Games raised an eyebrow at him quizzically.  
  
"We could, um, talk about it over breakfast first," the other rushed on. "Pick you up at eight? If it's okay with you, of course," he added hastily, hoping that the shadows disguised his deep blush.  
  
Yami's own cheeks darkened as well. "Uh, sure."  
  
They stood there and looked at each other for a few long minutes, barely noticing the arrival of the young billionaire's limousine.  
  
The former pharaoh's hand rose involuntarily, stopping abruptly when he realised what he was doing. He let it fall, his blush deepening. "Well… good night," he said, wrenching his gaze from his companion's only with great effort.  
  
Seto started. "Oh. Um… good night. See you tomorrow, I guess."  
  
"Yeah. Okay."  
  
Yami lightly smacked himself on the forehead after he stepped inside. _Could you have sounded any more like a moron?_  
  
_Well,_ replied the voice lurking in the corner of his mind, _now that you mention it…_  
  
_Shut up, you. _"I'm home!" he called.  
  
Yuugi came running. Throwing his arms around his darker half's narrow waist, he squeezed tightly.  
  
"What's this for?" the King of Games asked as he returned the hug, a touch of amusement in his voice.  
  
His aibou gave him a look that plainly said, "_What are you, stupid?_" and replied, "I could feel your sudden happiness from over a mile away. I knew then you'd found him."  
  
Yami smiled.  
  
From deeper in the house, Yuugi's 'jii-chan called for them to come to supper.

* * *

31 December 2002.

To be continued.

Sorry it's so short. The next one will make up for it, I promise!


	10. The Cemetery

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya

Yet Another Disclaimer: The poetry quoted in this chapter is from "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot. I do not own "The Hollow Men," however much I might like to.  
  
It's really pretty weird to be posting this chapter, which has been skulking around my hard drive, half-written, since very nearly the inception of this story. So much of it has changed since then…

* * *

  
  
Night passed, and morning followed: Saturday.  
  
It was snowing. Again. Soft, powdery snow that got all over the place and clung to your hair and lashes and—  
  
_Damn,_ Kaiba Seto thought irritably, glaring at the sky as he climbed into his limo. Snow always made him depressed. There was probably some deep and meaningful psychological reason behind this, but he really didn't care what it was.  
  
The ride was short, and it wasn't long before he entered the game shop.  
  
"Ohayo gozaimasu, Kaiba," Yuugi's grandfather said coolly. He had gotten used to seeing the young billionaire around, but he remained aloof for reasons of his own.  
  
"Ohayo gozaimasu, Mutou-san," he replied politely, just as he always did; and, just as he always did, the old man grunted in reply, turning back to his customer.  
  
Yuugi was sprawled on the couch in his pajamas with a mug of cocoa in hand, watching TV, when Seto entered. "Ohayo, Kaiba-kun," he said, his tone a great deal friendlier than his grandfather's had been. He got up, placing his mug on the coffee table. "I'll go get Yami," he added before the visitor had a chance to open his mouth. With a slight smirk, he started up the stairs.  
  
_…?_  
  
"Put on your robe before you freeze, Yuugi," came a stern remonstrance as the King of Games descended. "It's not warm enough to be running around the house like that."  
  
"Yes, **'Tou-san**." The smaller boy grinned, pushing past his lookalike and continuing his ascent.  
  
Seto smiled nervously at his friend. "Hey."  
  
"Good morning."  
  
A long pause.  
  
"So… you ready?"  
  
"Yeah. Just lemme get my jacket."  
  
_Have fun on your **date**, Yami,_ came an impish voice in his mind.  
  
He muttered something inappropriate under his breath as they walked out to the limo.  
  
"What?"  
  
"…Nothing. It was just Yuugi."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Silence as they looked out the tinted windows at the passing scenery.  
  
"…So where are we going, anyway?"  
  
"You'll see."

* * *

  
  
The limo pulled up outside a very nice restaurant.  
  
"I've been here before for business luncheons with some American associates of mine. The food's really good, and they rave about the _homestyle breakfasts_ served here. I thought it might be interesting to try it."  
  
"…Am I underdressed?" Yami wondered, frowning.  
  
_Never… and even if you were, you still don't look it. The way you—_ Seto mentally slapped himself. "No," he said aloud. "It's not as fancy as it looks. Let's go."  
  
They were seated in a corner booth, where they kept casting nervous glances across the table at each other. Despite their resolution, neither spoke much, and it seemed that every time one managed to get up the courage and was about to say something important, the waitress showed up to refill their coffee cups, or ask them if they were enjoying their meal, or such.  
  
Seto stared out the window. "The snow's stopped," he observed.  
  
"Aa."  
  
An awkward silence. The morning seemed to be filled with them.  
  
"…Seto?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Are you going to eat that?" Yami asked, pointing with his fork at one of his companion's hash browns.  
  
All in all, it was an inconclusive forty-five minutes.

* * *

  
  
They stopped at the florist next.  
  
"I'm here to pick up my order."  
  
"Yes. Kaiba Seto? One dozen primroses?"  
  
A nod.  
  
Yami's thoughts drifted aimlessly as he looked absently around the shop. _Primroses… He got them for the funeral, and for every visit to the grave we've made since… Yuugi's 'jii-san has a book about the meanings of flowers. I looked at it, once. It was actually pretty interesting. What did primroses signify? "I can't live without you," I think…_ He sighed. _Poor Seto…_  
  
The brown-haired youth raised a hand as if to place it on his companion's shoulder, but, hesitating, let it fall.

* * *

  
  
The cemetery looked even more gloomy than usual, somehow. The limo stopped on its owner's orders just outside.  
  
"Meet us here in about fifteen minutes. We'll walk the rest of the way."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
They walked in silence past bare-limbed trees and worn tombstones relatively unchanged by the new-fallen snow.  
  
Suddenly, Yami's feet flew out from under him. He let out a surprised yell and resigned himself to bone-bruising contact with the cold, hard ground — only to find his descent checked by his companion's warm arms.  
  
Startled, the two simply stared at each other for a long while. A peculiar expression flickered across Seto's face, almost instantly replaced by a faint blush that was shared by his shorter friend.  
  
Yami's hand brushed against something lying on the ground. "You dropped your flowers," he said quietly.  
  
"…Oh."  
  
Yami righted himself, straightening his jacket as his companion picked up his offering. They kept walking without comment.  
  
It wasn't long before they reached the grave. Seto gently brushed the snow off the tombstone before taking the primroses and letting them fall, one by one, to the ground in front of it, just as he always did.  
  
He held the last one for a long time, staring at it as he turned it this way and that. Suddenly, he thrust it at Yami. "Here," he said roughly.  
  
The King of Games blinked. Taking the little white blossom, he started to drop it with the rest—  
  
"No." Seto sounded exasperated. Rising to his feet, he reached out and closed the other's fingers around the stem. "Keep it," he said softly.  
  
Yami stared at him. "I… Seto?"  
  
The brown-haired youth was gazing off into the distance. "_Is it like this,_" he quoted, more to himself than the pharaoh, "_in death's other kingdom…_" He turned, a corner of his mouth rising with a sad little quirk.  
  
Yami smiled back reassuringly. Without thinking, he continued with the poem's next line. "_Waking alone…_"  
  
_Another contest for the King of Games, hmm…?_ Gazing fondly at the shorter youth, Seto recited the part that followed. "_At the hour when we are…_"  
  
"_Trembling with tenderness—_" Looking into his companion's rich blue eyes, Yami faltered, struck by a compelling emotion he had never noticed before contained therein. _Sweet mother Hathor, I… he…?_  
  
He swallowed, continued hoarsely. "Lips that… that would…" His voice faded into a whisper.  
  
_I win._ Seto smiled crookedly, tenderly stroking the spiky-haired pharaoh's cheek. "_Lips that would kiss…_"  
  
The young billionaire stood so close, the warmth of his body almost tangible, his smell — the clean fragrance of whatever soap he used, mixed with the ever-present hint of his cologne and underlaid by that slightly musky scent that was uniquely Kaiba Seto — intoxicating, his face mere centimetres away. Dizzily wondering at his heightened senses, Yami closed his eyes to escape the intensity of the other's gaze, but the afterimage remained strong in his mind. It would be so sweet, so very good, to lean forward and savour the exquisite taste of that soft mouth again…  
  
"_F-form prayers to broken stone,_" the King of Games finished with a choked gasp, and then buried his face in his companion's chest, shaking with the effort of suppressing his feelings.  
  
_You saw the way he looked at you,_ the voice in his mind whispered. _Do you really need to keep holding back?_  
  
_The way he looked at me…_ It was thrilling and yet, at the same time, somehow terrifying. His fingers clenched around handfuls of Seto's jacket, nearly crushing the flower he still held. _I…_  
  
The taller youth sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as a tension he had scarcely noticed within him sharply lessened. He instinctively wrapped his arms around the trembling pharaoh and held him close. "Yami… are you okay?"  
  
"Seto," he cried in anguish, his voice muffled by the fabric of the CEO's coat, "please… I… We have to talk." The shorter youth drew back to look at him seriously. His dark eyes were feverishly bright, and his face was flushed, though not from the cold. "Now."  
  
A pause.  
  
"Yes," the brown-haired youth agreed, suddenly uneasy for some reason. "But first we must get somewhere out of this cold." With a final glance at his brother's grave, he turned and started back toward the waiting limo.  
  
Yami sighed in apprehension and followed, toying absently with the stem of his primrose.

* * *

5 January 2003.

To be continued.


	11. Actions Speak Louder

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya

* * *

With a blast of cold air Kaiba Seto entered his home, stomping the snow off his boots. Shivering, Yami shut the door behind them. The master of the house proceeded down a hall to a large parlour. It was sparsely furnished, containing only two or three armchairs, a black lacquered coffee table, and a leather-upholstered couch facing a cavernous fireplace. He carelessly threw his coat on one of the chairs and turned to his companion. "Well…" he said awkwardly.  
  
His stomach rumbled loudly, much to his embarrassment.  
  
"I think lunch would be a good idea, before we talk," Yami decided, sounding as relieved as his companion felt.  
  
_He's as nervous about this discussion as I am,_ Seto observed, nodding gratefully.  
  
"I'll take care of it," Yami said. "You treated me to breakfast, so I feel I should return the favour."  
  
"And what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Sit here and twiddle my thumbs?"  
  
"I don't really care if you stand on your head and count backwards in Swahili — just as long as you don't go anywhere." He sighed. "We can't run from this forever," he murmured half to himself, leaving the room.  
  
As the sounds of the pharaoh's footsteps faded away, Seto let out an explosive breath. He paced around the room, his thoughts drifting in dangerous territory…  
  
_…! _Shaking his head, he opened a window, scooped a double handful of snow from outside, and thoroughly scrubbed his face with it. It helped him regain his composure, even though it made the room's temperature seem to drop by about twenty degrees.  
  
He gazed thoughtfully at the wall opposite the couch.  
  
When Yami returned, bearing food and hot tea, a fire was burning cheerfully on the hearth. He raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, handing a bowl to his companion and taking a seat with him on the couch.  
  
It was a simple meal, white rice with vegetables, but quite good, the delicate seasonings pleasing to the palate. "Excellent, as usual," Seto declared when he had finished, leaning back with a sigh.  
  
The King of Games paused in the sipping of his tea and smiled slightly. He placed his cup on the table and looked at the young billionaire seriously. "So."  
  
"So…"  
  
They stared at each other in awkward silence, each half hoping that the other would say something first.  
  
Finally, Yami took the plunge, his words almost stumbling over each other as he spoke.  
  
"I'm going to be honest with you. For a long time, even before… before Mokuba died, I…"  
  
Kaiba Seto knew already what the pharaoh was going to say — he had seen it in the other's eyes even before that night a week ago when it had been more obvious than ever, despite being superseded by desire.  
  
"…frank, and I'm sorry if it sounds corny: In all my years I have never felt for anyone what I feel for you. I think about you all the time. I miss you desperately when…"  
  
_Nevertheless,_ he mused, his mind wandering pleasantly, _hearing Yami verbally confirm the fact that he loves me—_ his heart gave a funny little lurch _—is. mmm. Pleasant…_  
  
"…would understand, but I need to know now. Before I go crazy, wondering."  
  
He blinked, startled out of his reverie. His friend had finished speaking, he realised. He opened his mouth — and discovered himself at a loss for words. _I… __I don't know what to say, where to begin, even,_ he thought disbelievingly, almost on the verge of panic. _What am I going to **do**?_  
  
The King of Games was looking at him rather nervously.  
  
_I may not be able to tell him,_ Seto mused, _but perhaps I can show him… _He leaned forward slightly and pressed his lips to Yami's — not with fierce, unreasoning passion, as he had before, but gently, chastely, with unsullied love.  
  
The former pharaoh pulled back and stared at his companion disbelievingly. _I__… oh, sweet Hathor, I don't deserve him…_  
  
Kaiba Seto smiled, blushing faintly. And then he did it again.  
  
It seemed Yami had overcome his initial shock, for this time he readily responded.  
  
Encouraged by this, the brown-haired youth's kisses became more and more ardent. He gently but firmly pushed the unresisting King of Games down onto his back without ceasing in his tender ministrations. The shorter youth's hands strayed to the buttons of Seto's shirt, and he had half of them undone already when the young billionaire drew back slightly, breathing heavily as he looked at his love.  
  
"I want you," Yami murmured hoarsely, running a finger down Seto's bare chest. He gazed up at his companion, the look in his eyes making the other's heart miss a beat. "Please."  
  
Seto proceeded to apply his lips to the sensitive skin of Yami's neck in a manner that left the pharaoh gasping. He kissed his way to a delicate ear and huskily whispered a single word, the heat of his breath giving the other chills.  
  
"Yes."  
  
There was no need for speech after that.  
  
The frenzied lust of their previous encounter was gone. In its place was a gentle tenderness that made it feel like the first time always should, that allowed them to take things slower and focus more on pleasing each other than on satisfying themselves.  
  
It was an incredible experience.  
  
Sated, they lay exhausted in each other's arms, content simply to bask in the afterglow. And then the taller youth stirred, kissing his lover gently.  
  
"Ai shiteiru, my only."  
  
Yami smiled blissfully and nestled closer. "Ai shiteiru… Kaiba Seto."

* * *

9 January 2003.

To be continued.

To lemon or not to lemon? That was the big question with this chapter — and to be quite honest, I was leaning in that direction. But nothing I wrote came at all close to conveying the sublime expression of love (winces that sounds so corny) I wanted this to be, so I scrapped it. You want one, you'll have to wait for a few chapters — the epilogue is looking good…


	12. Secrets

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya

Sorry it's been so long…  
  
Seto's thoughts are shown ::_like this;_:: Yami's thoughts are shown _like this._

* * *

Yami gazed in bemusement upon the pale, perfect form of the dozing Kaiba Seto, lying beside him wearing only the hint of a self-satisfied smirk at the corner of his oh-so-enticing mouth. _I still can't believe it. This must be a dream… gods, don't ever let me wake—_  
  
"A dream?" murmured the young billionaire, opening his eyes and smiling at his koi. "I doubt it." He kissed him possessively, and was both pleased and a little surprised by Yami's immediate response. ::_It had better not be a dream,_:: he thought fiercely, relishing the taste of the pharaoh's lips. ::_No matter what happens, you're mine, Yami. Every beautiful square inch, from those gorgeous wine-red eyes to—_:: he kissed along the smooth line of the familiar, determined jaw ::_—this divine neck to—_:: his hands slid teasingly down his lover's lower back ::_—that irresistable—_::  
  
Yami blushed, and wondered for an instant at his sudden ability to sense his koi's thoughts before rationality fled. A small gasp of pleasure escaped his lips as—  
  
_I'm very happy you've resolved your differences with Kaiba-kun, and I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything,_ came a tart voice in the pharaoh's mind, _but you're leaking._  
  
"Yuugi!" Seto's face turned the same scarlet as Yami's eyes. He sat up quickly, looking wildly around the room. ::_Where__ the hell is he?_:: "How—?"  
  
He stopped suddenly. The King of Games was staring stupidly at him, unconsciously emoting waves of surprise that were echoed by his aibou.  
  
_He can hear me?_ Yuugi finally asked.  
  
"You can hear him?" Yami said at the same time.  
  
"A little, but not as well as—" Seto broke off, frowning. ::_…__as well as I hear you…_::  
  
"…" said the former pharaoh.  
  
_How remarkable,_ his light commented. _I wonder how it happened…?_  
  
::_More__ to the point… **why** did it happen?_::  
  
There was a long, thoughtful pause.  
  
…_How well can you hear him, Yuugi?_  
  
_Not very. I don't get images like I do from you, and his thoughts and emotions seem… faded, somehow._  
  
"This is too weird," Seto muttered, running a hand through his russet hair.  
  
Yami nodded. "You get used to it after a while, though."  
  
Another pause.  
  
Yuugi sighed. _Great. So now I've got a pair of lovers in my head._ Though he sounded exasperated, amusement was clearly evident in his thought. _Don't even bother with shielding, Yami — I'll do it myself, so I don't have to worry about any more… ah, slip-ups on your part._  
  
Seto tried not to smile.  
  
_It's not funny, Kaiba-kun._ A pause. _When should I expect you home, Yami? And please, make sure your guess is at least in the ballpark this time._  
  
The former pharaoh cast a quick glance at Seto's watch where it lay on the table — _How can it be nearly five already?_ — and then at his koibito, who smirked slyly, winking. _Ah… um. Can't really answer that. Just… don't bother waiting up for me again._  
  
_I see._ Mischievousness hinted the other's mindvoice. _Enjoy yourselves,_ his aibou leered, and then the sensation of his presence was gone.  
  
::_He's__ a lot more… worldly than I thought,_:: Seto noted.  
  
_Love, he hangs out with Jounouchi all the time. What do you expect?_  
  
"Point taken." The young CEO stared into the dying fire on the hearth.  
  
Silence broken only by the crackle of the flames.  
  
"Seto?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
The King of Games rested his head on his lover's shoulder. "I'm cold," he whispered in the taller youth's ear, nuzzling his neck gently.  
  
Kaiba Seto slowly smiled and set about correcting that.  
  
::_If I had my way, love,_:: he thought slyly, his tongue hungrily exploring the hot sweetness of Yami's mouth, ::_I'd keep you warm all through the night._::  
  
The pharaoh moaned softly against his koishii's lips, pulling the taller youth tight against him. _Mmm… by all means, let's have your way, then…_

* * *

  
  
The early morning sun shone through the frosted windows. It did little to warm the room, but the hot tub more than made up for it.  
  
Yami sighed blissfully, sinking farther down into the steaming water. _I could definitely get used to this,_ he thought, putting an arm around Seto's waist. The heat soaking into his aching muscles made him feel so sleepy…  
  
The King of Games smiled as his lover drew him closer. _He's so beautiful… and he's mine._ He wanted to shout it from Fuji-san's summit for the whole world to hear—  
  
"No… not yet…"  
  
Yami blinked. "Why?"  
  
"I…" ::_Shit,_:: Seto snarled to himself, knuckling his forehead in frustration. ::_What is it about him that makes me go inarticulate?_::  
  
But the pharaoh was already nodding his understanding. "As you wish," he said softly, sounding slightly disappointed.  
  
"Dammit, Yami, don't… please don't take it that way," the young billionaire burst out, crushing his koibito to his chest. "It's…" He buried his face in the darkness of the other's hair. "It's just…"  
  
"I know, and it makes sense; I just really wish it didn't have to feel necessary, to both of us." He sighed. Seto opened his mouth, but his lover kept going. "You think we should take things slowly, not hit Yuugi's friends over the head with our relationship coming practically out of nowhere, as far as they're concerned." He cocked his head and looked up at the brown- haired youth. "I never knew you cared, koishii," he said slyly.  
  
::_To be quite honest, neither did I._:: "Who, me? I'm the most caring son of a bitch you ever laid eyes on."  
  
_You don't need to tell **me** that._  
  
The corner of Seto's mouth twitched. "The whole cold, arrogant bastard thing is just an act I put on to keep up my reputation. Do you have any idea what it would do to my image — my company's image — if I dropped it?" He chuckled. "Besides… I find it amusing how the puppy gets pissed off so easily by it."  
  
The King of Games rolled his eyes — even after all this time, he hadn't been able to get Seto to stop calling Jounouchi that, though he knew the blue-eyed youth didn't mean it **quite** so insultingly anymore. "Why do you enjoy pushing his buttons so much?" he asked, burying his fingers in his koibito's soft brown hair.  
  
The teenage billionaire shrugged. "Oh, I don't know." he said, smiling deliberately. "He's kind of cute when he's angry."  
  
Yami's grip tightened suddenly.  
  
**SPLASH**!  
  
"Hey! I was only kidding!" Seto spluttered, blinking water from his ice-blue eyes as he surfaced. ::_And__ it's not like you didn't know it, either._::  
  
"Oops," the shorter youth replied innocently.  
  
Seto snorted, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling.  
  
They sat in companionable silence for a time, steam rising from the water to condense on the icy windowpanes.  
  
"Yami."  
  
"Mmm?" came the pharaoh's lazy reply.  
  
"How does breakfast sound to you?"  
  
"Wonderful. I'm starving." The crimson-eyed youth stretched languidly and rose from the water.  
  
An appreciative smile slowly spread across Seto's face.  
  
Yami shook his head in amusement at his koishii's thoughts. _Enjoying the view, hmm?_ he noted with a raised eyebrow, wrapping a towel around his waist. _Keep that up and we'll be here all day._  
  
::_…I wouldn't mind…_::  
  
"You," the pharaoh said, a hint of mirth in his voice, "are insatiable."  
  
The young billionaire took the King of Games in his arms. "I know," was all he said, and then he kissed his koi deeply. ::_But__ it makes life so much more… mmm… fun, don't you think?_::  
  
The only response Seto received was a ripple of laughter echoing in his mind.

* * *

  
  
"Well… here we are." Kaiba Seto stopped just outside the game shop and turned to look at his lover.  
  
Yami stared at the ground, sighed. "…I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."  
  
The brunet gently lifted the pharaoh's chin until scarlet met azure. "Koishii…" he whispered.  
  
Their lips met.  
  
Seto leaned back against the wall several minutes later and sighed shakily. "Oh Kami-sama, this is going to be hard," he groaned, running a hand through his hair.  
  
"Mmm," came Yami's muffled agreement from inside the warmth of his trenchcoat. He looked up at the taller youth. "But just think," he said slyly, stroking Seto's smooth cheek, "how much more we'll value the time we can spend together without the charade…"  
  
The young billionaire shivered, though not from the cold. He—  
  
"**Yami**!" someone squealed, bursting through the door and latching onto said young man.  
  
Laughing, the King of Games turned to hug his aibou. "Couldn't you have waited a couple more minutes?" he asked, half reproachfully.  
  
Yuugi shook his head, stubbornly refusing to let go. _I__ missed you,_ he said simply.  
  
Yami shrugged and told his light of the decision he and Seto had reached about their relationship.  
  
"I think it's a considerate gesture," Yuugi said thoughtfully. He turned to his dark half's lover. "Though I must admit I'm a bit surprised **you** care, Kaiba-kun."  
  
"Do I honestly seem that cold-hearted?" Seto complained to the indifferent sky.  
  
Both spiky-haired boys smirked at him, the expressions on their faces nearly identical.  
  
_Yuugi,_ Yami said, carefully shielding his thought from the CEO, _you haven't been… eavesdropping, again… have you…?_ He hadn't sensed his light's presence, but if the boy had taken the right precautions…  
  
_Would I do that?_ his short otherself asked, looking up at him innocently.  
  
The pharaoh decided that he really didn't want to know the answer to that, so he wisely let the issue drop. He turned back to his lover. "Seto…"  
  
"Shh." The handsome brunet kissed him again.  
  
After several minutes of politely not watching his darker half make out with the head of KaibaCorp on their doorstep, Yuugi sighed inwardly. "Yami," he said in a small voice, shivering, "I'm cold."  
  
The King of Games extricated himself from his koibito's arms with a sigh. "Until tomorrow, love."  
  
Seto smiled a bit sadly. He brushed his lover's cheek with gentle fingers, ruffled Yuugi's hair with one hand, and slowly headed back to his waiting limo.  
  
With his light still clinging to his narrow waist, Yami turned and opened the door, a stray thought crossing his mind—  
  
_Yuugi…_  
  
_Aa?_  
  
_What in the seven hells am I going to tell your 'jii-san…?_

* * *

26 January 2003.

To be continued.


	13. Truth and Lies

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya

Long time no update, I know… Gomen nasai. I've been working on about ten different fics at once, some of which (aside from those two one-shots) I might even put up one of these days…  
  
Disclaimer-poo: I stole the American school system and transplanted it. So nyah.

* * *

  
  
_But Yami,_ Yuugi protested, _I don't… I mean… Are you sure about this?_  
  
_Trust me, aibou. It's far better that he find out now rather than being suddenly confronted with it gods-know-when in a way that would likely be embarrassing for all of us._  
  
_I guess,_ the small one conceded doubtfully.  
  
"Where have you been all this time, Yami? I was worried sick."  
  
The teen collapsed wearily on the couch, putting his arms around Yuugi as his aibou snuggled up to him. "Seto's house."  
  
"For an entire day?" The old voice went flat. "Why, may I ask?"  
  
A pause. "There was something we needed to discuss."  
  
"And what might that be?" the other pressed.  
  
"Our feelings for each other." Yami looked his interrogator squarely in the eye. "Seto and I are in love," he said bluntly.  
  
Mutou Sugoroku frowned in startlement at the crimson-eyed young man. Yami's sudden appearance as a daily fixture in their lives, after he had discovered how to physically separate from Yuugi, had been difficult for him; he honestly hadn't known what to make of his grandson's darker half. Eventually, however, he had grown to love Yami as much as he did Yuugi, and even accept some of his eccentricities — such as the former pharaoh's peculiar habit of eating onions in the same manner one would eat an apple. But this… He sighed heavily. Life, it seemed, enjoyed throwing him curveballs.  
  
Yami watched him expectantly. _How do you think he's taking it?_ he asked his light.  
  
_Pretty well, I'd say. He's probably a bit taken aback by the fact that you immediately beat him over the head with it instead of breaking it to him a bit more gently._  
  
_Be nice,_ the dark one chided. He paused. _…I did not want to lessen your 'jii-san's opinion of me by being less than straightforward._  
  
_Don't tell him **too** much,_ his aibou warned. _He's not a young man, you know, and I really don't think he could take too many shocks to his system in close succession._  
  
_I will tell him what he asks to know,_ the King of Games replied maddeningly.  
  
"Why Kaiba?" the old man finally said. _Why that horrible, nasty young man?_  
  
"He's not who he was when he ripped up your Blue-Eyes, 'Jii-san. That part of him is long gone. And since poor Mokuba died, he's changed even more. He's become the man I always knew he was beneath that tough, cold exterior; the same gentle, affectionate person he was to his brother." The pharaoh's fierce expression softened. "I love him as much as I love Yuugi — with all my heart." The shorter youth smiled at him and leaned his head on his yami's knee.  
  
"Huh." A half-formed thought drifted across the elderly man's mind. _Oh, Kami-sama. What if he…?_  
  
Seeing the old man's suddenly frightened eyes dart to his grandson, correctly guessing the gist of his thoughts, the King of Games spoke again. "I have never done — would never do — **anything** to my light, 'Jii-san," he stated, his scarlet eyes cold but honest. "Yuugi's like a brother to me in every sense but the biological one — and what kind of person—" his voice grew disgusted "—would seduce his brother?"  
  
Yuugi blinked as his dark half's words sank in. His face paled, then reddened. "**'Jii-chan**!" he yelled. "How could you— I mean, **really**—" He shook his head disbelievingly. "I love Yami very much — but not in **that** way."  
  
Sugoroku relaxed a little, relieved. Yuugi's reaction was too genuine to be playacting, thank goodness. It would have been beyond unnerving, knowing his grandson and his ward had been… "involved."  
  
"'Jii-san." The pharaoh's voice broke into his thoughts.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I know you don't really like Seto, and you probably don't approve of us together, but I had to tell you. I didn't want to have to sneak around behind your back, hiding this from you. I respect you too much for that."  
  
_Suck-up,_ Yuugi commented, yawning.  
  
_Absolutely not, aibou. Every word I've said is completely true._  
  
The fact that Yuugi's yami was being so open about this whole thing was oddly comforting to the old man; the implicit trust was… nice. He sighed inwardly, fixing his grandson's lookalike with a stern gaze. It was obvious that nothing he said would stop the youth from continuing in his foolhardy course; he'd do it with or without approval. "Yami," he said slowly, "I can't say I condone this. However, if it's really what you want… I'm not going to stop you." He looked away. "I just don't want to see you hurt by that boy."  
  
"Thank you for understanding." The King of Games surprised both of his companions by rising and hugging the old man warmly. "But don't worry, 'Jii-chan," he said reassuringly. "Seto would never hurt me."  
  
"For your sake, I hope you're right…" Sugoroku cleared his throat abruptly. "All right," he said briskly, "who's up for lunch?"  
  
"Not me, thanks." Yami smiled, shaking his head slightly. "I just had breakfast half an hour ago."  
  
"That's not like you," his aibou's guardian remarked with some surprise. Yami awoke at dawn most mornings, and broke his fast just as early.  
  
The pharaoh shrugged, flushing slightly.  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"Just… no. Don't tell me; I don't want to know." The old man threw his hands up in the air and stumped off, muttering to himself.  
  
Yuugi snickered. _He's got **that** right…_

* * *

  
  
_Good morning, gorgeous._  
  
Kaiba Seto turned and smiled at Yami as the pharaoh and his light entered the classroom. Even in their school uniform, his lover was so regally elegant it made his… heart ache. ::_Hello, love. Sleep well?_::  
  
Taking a seat next to the billionaire, Yami's expression changed to an artful pout. _No. I missed you too much._ He swallowed a piece of the half-eaten orange he held in one hand.  
  
On the other side of his dark half, Yuugi made a face in the middle of a jaw-cracking yawn. It had been a long night for him — even with shielding, it's hard to get any sleep when the other two people in your mind are talking to each other across half the town — and he was rather cranky this morning. _If all these emotions you two are flinging back and forth at each other get any more cloying, you're going to make me sick._  
  
The King of Games smiled shamelessly and popped another segment of his orange into his mouth. With a sidelong glance at his koibito, he slowly licked the juice from his sticky fingers with obvious relish.  
  
"Mmmph." Seto shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fixing his former rival with a steady gaze. ::_Keep__ that up and I may decide I have to have you here and now, your friends' sensibilities be damned._::  
  
At the thought of the others' reactions — especially his aibou's — Yami choked.  
  
About half of the room's occupants turned and stared at him.  
  
"Uhh…" He smiled nervously at them once he regained his breath. "Seed stuck in my throat."  
  
Face flaming, Yuugi sank down into his seat. He glared at the two lovers sternly. _You **could** be a bit less obvious — especially you, Yami._  
  
_Sorry, aibou._ The pharaoh actually sounded almost subdued. His light harrumphed and turned his gaze on Seto, raising an eyebrow.  
  
The billionaire smirked impudently. ::_What?_::  
  
Yuugi rolled his plum-coloured eyes. _Oh Kami-sama,_ he sighed in resignation. _This is **not** going to be fun._  
  
::_I'm rather enjoying it…_::

* * *

  
  
"What happened to you, Yami?" Honda asked in the locker room before gym class.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
The dark-complexioned boy gestured wordlessly.  
  
The King of Games noted numerous small bruises scattered across the bare flesh of his well-formed torso. "Oh. Umm…"  
  
"Hickeys," Jounouchi pronounced, pulling his shirt over his head. "So **that's** where you were all day Saturday." He shook his head in amusement. "**Someone** had a busy weekend, ne?" he observed, nudging Honda slyly.  
  
The other boy sniggered.  
  
In the middle of another jaw-cracking yawn, Yuugi facepalmed.  
  
Yami sniffed, yanking the shirt of his gym uniform down so it covered the topic of conversation. "I don't see why it's any of **your** business."  
  
"Aww, come on, man," the blond said expansively, putting an arm around the pharaoh's shoulders. "We're just happy you finally found someone — although I have to admit neither of us expected you to take so long. So tell us—" he winked conspiratorially "—who's the lucky girl?"  
  
The King of Games blinked. "…What?"  
  
"I **said**, who's the lucky girl? The one you—" he made a suggestive gesture "—you know?"  
  
Yami's face turned scarlet. "I don't want to talk about it," he said shortly.  
  
"Go on — no need to be shy," Honda urged, grinning slyly. "Just between friends…"  
  
"What part of _I don't want to talk about it_ don't you people understand?" the pharaoh snapped. He shot a stony glare at his aibou, who had doubled over, his sides heaving. "Are you all right, Yuugi?" he asked, attempting to change the subject.  
  
His light coughed helplessly, so hard that tears ran down his face — or so it seemed. But Yami could hear his little double's hysterical laughter echoing through the vaults of his mind. _It's really not funny, you know._  
  
The diminutive boy collapsed on the tiled floor, laughing out loud now.  
  
Jounouchi and Honda stared.  
  
The pharaoh sighed. "Somebody," he remarked acidly, "needs a little more sleep and a lot less sugar."  
  
His light only laughed harder, gasping for breath.  
  
"Aibou?" The King of Games shook his otherself gently, then more forcefully.  
  
No response, just more laughter.  
  
"Yuugi!" Yami was on the verge of panic now. _Answer me! Please…_  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
It was Seto. The billionaire raised an eyebrow at the sight of the pharaoh's manic hikari. Firmly pushing Jounouchi and Honda out of the way, he knelt over the petite teen. "Yuugi…"  
  
The violet-eyed boy grinned like an idiot and shook with mirth, still in hysterics.  
  
::_Kami-sama. I knew Yuugi could be a little high-strung sometimes, but this is just… disturbing._:: The blue-eyed young man sighed, directing his thought to the small one before him. ::_I'm__ sorry, light of my lover, but this is not going to be pleasant._:: And with that, he smacked Yuugi across the face, hard.  
  
Yami stared at his koi in utter shock. Jounouchi, however, had a different reaction.  
  
"What the **hell** do you think you're doing?" he practically screamed, grabbing the brown-haired youth roughly. "You son of a bitch, that was **totally** uncalled for! Now, if you don't give me a good reason why you slapped my best buddy like that, I'll—"  
  
Kaiba Seto gritted his teeth, resisting the tempting urge to seize the loudmouthed blond by the collar and slam him into one of the lockers. "Yuugi was hysterical," he said calmly. "He'll be fine now."  
  
"Oww." The spiky-haired boy in question, sitting up now, shook his head woozily, gingerly touching his reddening cheek. He looked up at the billionaire. "I… arigatou, Kaiba-kun."  
  
Jounouchi blinked at his friend.  
  
"I recommend you unhand me if you value your continued health," Seto coolly informed him.  
  
The blond released him. "You okay, Yuugi?" he asked, offering the smaller boy a hand up.  
  
"Yeah." He cast a glance at his yami, who was giving Seto his "_we-need-to-talk-**now**_" look, and casually said, "Let's go — we don't want to be marked down for tardiness."  
  
"I'll be with you in a moment, aibou," the King of Games said, eyes never leaving his former rival's face.  
  
Yuugi nodded in understanding, then walked off with his friends, leaving the two of them alone.  
  
Seto cleared his throat nervously, but Yami spoke first.  
  
"There's no need to apologise, love. In fact, I want to thank you. I just wish I'd thought of it sooner — although I'm not entirely sure I would have been able to do it. I don't like seeing Yuugi hurt." He picked a loose thread off the other's shirt. "I was rather proud of the way you handled yourself with Jounouchi, though — even if that _unhand me_ thing was a bit excessive."  
  
The taller youth growled. "Damn him, always acting before he stops to think."  
  
The pharaoh chuckled. "He may not have thought, but you did, thankfully. Keep this up and he may actually grow to tolerate you."  
  
His lover snorted. "Why should I care if that dog tolerates me or not?"  
  
"Because if you two start acting somewhat civil toward each other — and you stop calling him that — I might just have to thank you for the peace somehow." The ruby-eyed youth stepped closer, smiling slightly.  
  
Seto's knees went weak. ::_Oh, how I love it when he smiles…_::  
  
"Perhaps you need a bit of motivation?" Yami asked softly, raising an elegant eyebrow. Tangling his fingers in the other's brown hair, he kissed his koishii deeply.  
  
Seto moaned against the other's sweet mouth, eagerly opening his lips to the pharaoh's questing tongue. Feeling as if he were melting in Yami's arms, he ran a trembling hand down his lover's back, pulling the slender form of the King of Games flush against him.  
  
The spiky-haired youth gasped as they came in contact, a wave of heat swamping him. He broke the kiss, panting. _Damn his infernally sexy self for being so irresistible… If I weren't afraid someone'd walk in on us, I'd take him right now._ Gods, the thought was tempting…  
  
"If that's my motivation," the billionaire said gravely (though the fact that he was breathless rather spoiled it), "you can be assured I will try to the utmost of my abilities to achieve a peaceful coexistence between myself and the ca— uhh, Jounouchi."  
  
Yami smiled beatifically. "See? That wasn't so hard, now, was it?"  
  
Kaiba Seto muttered something undignified under his breath.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Nothing," the blue-eyed youth assured his koibito hastily. "Let's go — before they decide that we're cutting class, not late."  
  
The pharaoh nodded, taking a few moments to calm himself before he walked away.  
  
Seto remained unmoving, watching the tantalising movement of muscle beneath the unblemished skin of his lover's shapely legs. ::_I__ hope having a civil relationship with that— uhh, with Jounouchi — is easier than it sounds,_:: he thought, sighing lustily.  
  
Yami turned to look at him questioningly. _Coming, koishii?/_/  
  
The brunet hurried to catch up.

* * *

13 March 2003.

To be continued.


	14. Revelations

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya

This chapter came out pretty long… and this was only supposed to be the first half of it! I wish inspiration didn't come in spurts — my Muse lurches around like a drunken sailor…

* * *

  
  
"Jounouchi."  
  
"Eh?" The blond turned, his brown eyes narrowing as he saw Kaiba Seto walking toward him. "What do you want?"  
  
"You and I haven't exactly gotten along, as I'm sure you've noticed."  
  
Jounouchi raised an eyebrow. "Don't have to be a genius to figure that out."  
  
Seto resisted the urge to lash out at him. "I wish to propose a truce."  
  
"Whaa—?"  
  
"A truce. If you treat me civilly, I'll treat you civilly." He held out his hand. "What do you say?"  
  
A pause. Jounouchi stared at him doubtfully, then cast a glance at his best friend, who had just come up to stand beside him.  
  
Yuugi nodded emphatically, his urging echoed by the approving Yami.  
  
He turned back to the blue-eyed youth and shrugged, smiling slightly. "Why not? Yuugi's been bothering me to give you a chance since forever — it's about time I got around to it. Who knows? We might even end up friends."  
  
Seto made a face. "I doubt— aggkkh!" Ignoring the proffered hand, the blond had jovially clapped him on the back and sent him staggering forward, making a sharp pain shoot up his spine. "Oww…"  
  
"You okay? What happened?"  
  
::_Nothing much — I was just fucked a few times too many this weekend, that's all._::  
  
Yuugi snickered. _Poor Kaiba-kun,_ he said in exaggerated sympathy. _Does your widdle bottom hurt?_  
  
The billionaire blinked, a bit taken aback by the violet-eyed boy's teasing.  
  
"Uhh… Kaiba?" came Jounouchi's voice.  
  
_Be nice, aibou._ Folding his arms across his chest, Yami looked at his handsome Blue-Eyes reproachfully. _Hunh. You didn't object at the time, koishii._  
  
::_I was… busy. But — why did I have to be uke every time? I wish you'd let me be seme every once in a while…_::  
  
A sharp spike of interest from his diminutive lover. _Mmm… that sounds… intriguing,_ he purred. _Perhaps we can arrange it—_  
  
Seto twitched involuntarily, trying not to think about how arousing it would be to play the dominant, to get a piece of the pharaoh's hot, tight little—  
  
_—as your reward._  
  
"Kaiba?"  
  
The billionaire's jaw dropped. ::**_Nani_**_?!? Demo—_::  
  
The King of Games grinned evilly. _I think you need more experience first. But I'd be quite happy to reveal the secrets of the fine art of seme to you, my beloved._ He stood up a bit straighter, adopting the mannerisms of a stern professor. _Each demonstration will be proceeded by a brief lecture. Be sure to pay close attention, because the final exam will be quite… rigorous._  
  
Seto smirked.  
  
_I recommend we begin as soon as possible. The more time we have for… review, the better._ The spiky-haired youth pursed his lush lips. _Friday's out, I have a photo shoot early the next morning… how does Saturday night sound to you?_  
  
::_Mmm… what's wrong with Saturday afternoon?_:: the brunet countered.  
  
"**Kaiba**!"  
  
"What?" he snapped at Yuugi's nagging best friend.  
  
The blond held up his hands defensively. "Geez! I just asked you a question and you completely zoned out." He peered at the brunet, frowning. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. I haven't gotten much sleep the past couple days, and put that together with the events of the past week…" He shrugged, deliberately ignoring the second half of the other's initial question.  
  
Jounouchi blinked. "You know… for the first time, I can honestly say that I'm sorry."  
  
Sympathy from the **mutt**? This was intolerable. "…Shut up."  
  
_Seto…_ his lover warned.  
  
"Sorry," he muttered quickly in the blond's general direction. ::_I don't know if I have the patience for this._::  
  
_I have faith in you, love._  
  
_Me too._  
  
::_Thanks. I just wish **I** did…_::

* * *

  
  
Kaiba Seto let his head fall forward against his locker with a sigh. The past four months had been some of the longest he could remember, as he tried to deal with Jounouchi without biting his head off. It had been difficult, but he'd done his best, and found himself actually starting to soften toward the blond somewhat. ::_Cold and ruthless? Blew that whole image a long time ago,::_ he thought ruefully, making a face as he entered his combination and opened the door to see…  
  
A bottle of massage oil? He frowned. There was a note attached to it.  
  
_My beloved Seto —  
  
I'm proud of you, my Blue-Eyes; you and Jounouchi have been getting along very well. I seem to remember promising you a reward — just name a date, time, and place, and I'll be quite happy to give it to you. Don't forget to bring this._  
  
There was no signature, but such wasn't necessary. The billionaire grinned broadly. ::_Finally__._:: He took out a pen and paper and scribbled a reply.  
  
_Dearest Yami —  
  
This Friday, six, my place. Be early if you can — I am quite looking forward to what you promised me. All my love._  
  
It would be easy enough to slip the note to his koibito. And then…  
  
Friday could not come soon enough, as far as he was concerned.

* * *

  
  
"I still don't see why you won't introduce us to this mystery girlfriend of yours," Anzu complained as they prepared to leave school that day. "Tell us about her, at least. Is she one of those models you work with?"  
  
"If she is," Jounouchi interjected, "could you ask her to introduce me to some of her friends?"  
  
Anzu glared at him.  
  
"What? I think it's a perfectly reasonable request." He elbowed the dark-eyed youth who walked next to him. "Don't you, Honda?"  
  
"Absolutely," the other replied with a perfectly straight face.  
  
Yuugi hid a smirk that seemed a sharp contrast with his angelic features. The petite teen found the whole situation vastly amusing, much to Yami's vexation.  
  
The King of Games shook his head as he put Seto's note back in his pocket. He had never actually come out and said anything about his involvement with the head of KaibaCorp, letting his aibou's friends come to their own conclusions. How they hadn't even managed by now to at least consider the possibility that his "mystery girlfriend" was not, in fact, female was beyond him. "I told you," he said for the ten millionth time, exasperated, "we both want to keep things relatively quiet for a while."  
  
"How long is a while? You've been together for over four months now, and…"  
  
He sighed to himself. Oh, but it was hard. Despite the fact that they were having a lot of fun tiptoeing around Yuugi's completely clueless friends, things would be **so** much better if he and Seto could be open about their relationship.  
  
"…Yami?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I asked you if you wanted to come to the arcade with us," Yuugi said.  
  
"Not today, but thank you, aibou." _I'd like to spend a little time with Seto this afternoon, if you don't mind._  
  
His light — _gods bless my sweet, understanding little light!_ — nodded. _If you're bringing him home, just try to remember to go to our room and **lock** **the** **door** if you're going to get "a bit carried away."_ He grinned evilly. _You don't want a repetition of that time 'Jii-chan almost walked in on you._  
  
Yami turned scarlet. _Please don't remind me._  
  
Yuugi hugged him. "Have fun," he whispered, smirking, and headed off to join his friends.  
  
"Yami's not coming?" the former pharaoh heard Anzu ask Yuugi. She sounded disappointed.  
  
"Not today, no."  
  
"Huh. Probably sneaking off to meet his girlfriend and—" The King of Games didn't quite catch the latter half of the sentence.  
  
"Jounouchi Katsuya!" came a stern voice. "Please refrain from ribald comments while on the school grounds. I don't care if it is after hours, such disgusting language is hardly appropriate."  
  
"Hai, sensei," was the sullen reply.  
  
The spiky-haired youth snickered.  
  
"What's so funny?" came a voice from just behind him.  
  
"Jounouchi," Yami said simply, gesturing as he turned and smiled up at his lover. "Got anything to do this afternoon, koishii?"  
  
"Nothing I can't put off, no. Why?"  
  
"Yuugi's going to the arcade for a few hours with his friends, and his grandfather's quite busy today — the novices' tournament is coming up this weekend, and it's an inventory day, so he has little time between customers."  
  
Kaiba Seto smirked. "And…?" he asked, feigning ignorance.  
  
Yami scowled at him in counterfeit aggravation. "And I want you to come home with **me** for once, instead of the other way around." He looked at the brunet slyly. _I haven't had you in my bed for quite some time…_  
  
The billionaire performed an extravagant bow. ::_How could I ever refuse such a handsome… mmm… face? Since it's such a nice day, we can take the shortcut through the park…_::  
  
His dark koibito's only response was a deep, warm chuckle. "Let's go."

* * *

  
  
"Konnichi wa, Kaiba," Mutou Sugoroku greeted the billionaire.  
  
"Konnichi wa, Mutou-san."  
  
A courteous nod. "Yami, you're la— Have you been getting into some kind of trouble at school? There's dirt all over your jacket **again**," he said in disgust, looking at his grandson's dark half. "Getting that thing dry-cleaned twice a week isn't cheap, you know."  
  
"Um. No, 'Jii-san, everything's fine," the crimson-eyed youth assured him, blushing slightly, "and if you want, I'll pay the cleaning bill." He crossed the shop to the door that led to their apartment. "By the way — Yuugi's at the arcade with his friends."  
  
"Thank you for telling me. There are some cookies on the kitchen table — please don't eat them all. And don't forget to do your homework!" the old man called after them.  
  
Seto made a face as they left the shop. "Damn. There goes our afternoon."  
  
"Not if we hurry," Yami murmured, picking a few pieces of grass out of his koi's hair. "Half of it's long-term anyway — and none of that's due for at least a week. No one ever said you had to start a project the day you're assigned it."  
  
The billionaire smiled. "I like the way you think, love…"

* * *

  
  
"What was that?" Seto wondered suddenly, half sitting up.  
  
"What was what?"  
  
"I thought I heard something."  
  
Yami shrugged. "Don't worry about it," he murmured, giving his willing koi yet another gentle kiss — one that rather quickly escalated into a heated battle of tongues.  
  
And then the door banged open.  
  
::_Mmm… hello, Yuugi._::  
  
_…_  
  
Sensing his aibou's distress and embarrassment, Yami broke the kiss and turned toward the door. Seto attempted to sit up, but, as the King of Games was seated on his hips — oh, the sweet torture — he didn't get very far, and had to be contented with propping himself up on his elbows.  
  
Yuugi was blushing furiously — not for his own sake, but for his friends, who had stopped dead beside him.  
  
The blood drained from Anzu's wide-eyed face; clapping her hands over her mouth, she turned and fled. Yuugi, giving his dark half an apologetic glance, dashed after her. Honda stood there gaping, his mouth opening and closing reflexively, fishlike; he looked like someone had hit him in the back of the head with a two-by-four. And Jounouchi—  
  
**THUD**.  
  
Kaiba Seto blinked at the unconscious form of Jounouchi Katsuya and, for some inexplicable reason, began to laugh hysterically.  
  
Honda and Yami stared, but the other youth just kept laughing.  
  
_Oh, gods. It's going to be one of **those** days…_

* * *

16 May 2003.

To be continued.


	15. Aftermath

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya

Gomen, gomen, I know it's been a long time. I've been running around like crazy the past couple months; what with finals and vacation and extra hours at work (about three times as many as normal), I've hardly have time to think, let alone write.

Anyway… I put something in here that I seriously never intended to, and kind of scared myself doing so. And Yuugi seems to be getting more and more OOC as this thing continues… There's additional pairingstuff in this chapter, friendship schtuff Anzu would be proud of, and a lot more angst than some of the more recent ones. That done with, here we go…fs

Blue September: Yes, they **did** have clothes on — mostly. smirk We're not talking indecent exposure here, but… well, I think you get the idea

* * *

"Kamisama!" Jounouchi, now conscious, groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Yami, I can't believe— I mean, you and **him**? Why **Kaiba**?"

"You're **gay**?" the dumbfounded Honda repeated for the tenth time in as many minutes.

"You got a problem with that?" Seto snapped, cracking his knuckles in a rather menacing fashion.

The dark-complexioned teen sweatdropped. "Uhh— No! Definitely not! Heh… right, Jounouchi?"

"—and they were **making** **out**…!" The blond moaned, clutching his face. "There's an image that's been permanently scorched on my—"

Yami simply sat there, silently staring at the floor. Seto wrapped his arms around him and held him close, pouring comfort through their link, and the pharaoh leaned against him and squeezed his hand gently, but wouldn't look at him.

Kaiba was an eternal pessimist; he had expected something along these lines to happen no matter how Yuugi-tachi found out. But he knew that this wasn't at all how his lover had envisioned their reactions. The King of Games had adopted his aibou's extreme optimism in this, and assumed that they would take the news as his small double had — calmly, without fussing about sexuality, without being upset by the fact that his lover was his greatest rival; indeed, with some degree of approval, however small it might have been. But instead… He growled to himself. ::_Yami__ deserves better than this._::

"Jounouchi," he said brusquely, "I need to talk to you. Now."

The brown-eyed teen stopped his grousing and stared at the billionaire in astonishment. "Huh?"

"Come **on**." And, grabbing the blond by the arm, Seto dragged him into the next room.

After carefully closing the door behind them, he slammed Jounouchi up against the wall. "Don't you realise what you're **doing** to him?" he hissed, his face only inches from the other's. "You're his light's best friend, and you know how highly he values your opinion. Can't you see how much your reaction's hurting him?"

The blond refused to look at him. "I don't expect **you** to understand—"

"To understand **what**?" the billionaire snarled.

"To understand what I'm going through," Jounouchi said bitterly. "Have you ever had one of those dreams that are wildly unrealistic, but have some small ground in reality that won't let you give them up?" When the other gave him a blank look, the blond sighed. "I can't even begin to describe how it feels to have something like that shattered by… well, I suppose it really doesn't matter now, does it?"

There was a pause. "I'm sorry, Jounouchi," Seto spoke quietly. "I—"

"Please don't," the other interrupted roughly.

Another period of silence ensued.

"Well," the brunet said awkwardly, "I know it's going to be hard for you to accept us as a couple — but at least try, for Yami's sake."

Jounouchi looked up, finally, an unfathomable hurt in his brown eyes. "_For Yami's sake? _You think this is about him — that I have feelings for Yuugi's other half?" He laughed bitterly. "I never would have guessed my subterfuge would be so successful." At the other's bewildered look, he began to explain.

"It must have started from the very beginning. There was just something about you that elicited a strong reaction from me after our first encounter in Yuugi's ojii-san's shop. You were so darkly nasty, so refreshingly abrupt. And, especially during the Death-T, so enticingly dangerous…"

A cold, heavy, suspicious feeling began in the pit of Kaiba's stomach. He wasn't sure he liked where this seemed to be headed…

"And then, when you defeated me at Duelist Kingdom, something… changed," the other went on. "I began feeling strange things, and I started having the most peculiar dreams…"

There was a long pause before Jounouchi finally continued. "They started out innocently enough. One of your Blue-Eyes would be chasing me, and then I would stumble and fall, and look up to see you looming larger than life in front of me, commanding me to _sit at your master's feet, where you belong._" The blond's voice dropped to a whisper, and he would not look at the billionaire. "But they became more and more… graphic… as time went on, and it frightened and disgusted and thrilled me, all at once, that I had these disjointed dreams of you tying me down and having your way with me, of leather and handcuffs and hot, furious sex…"

Feeling suddenly ill, Kaiba Seto shuddered and turned away. As interesting as it may be to know how one figures in others' dreams, some are better left untouched.

"I ached to submit to you, to let you master me. I still feel that lust… but lust is all it has ever been, I suppose. Infatuation with your good looks and the sheer force of your personality, your beyond-intense emotions…" Jounouchi shook himself abruptly. "I'm sorry. I know you're involved with Yami, now, so I just have to get over it."

Kaiba was staring at him somewhat stupidly, the overwhelming shock/disgust/terror he felt at this (characteristically) blunt revelation visible only as a tic in his left eye. "Er…"

The other drew closer. "Could you just do one thing for me?" he whispered huskily. "Kiss me… like you feel for me the way I feel for you. Just once, I want to taste the real Kaiba Seto."

The taller youth held his gaze for long moments before he was forced to glance away with a sigh. "I can't do that for you, Jounouchi Katsuya. I'm sorry."

There was a long pause, and then the blond nodded slowly. "I understand," he murmured. "Thank you for being honest." With one last lingering look at the other, he left the room.

Seriously unnerved, the brunet took a moment to regather his wits before opening the door to the other room.

"—maybe not totally unexpected," came Honda's voice, "but… well, you have to admit it would be a rude awakening for anyone."

Seto's heart leapt at his lover's laugh. "I have to agree; I know both of us would have preferred that the three of you found out in a different way. But… it really doesn't bother you?"

"Of course not," the other assured him. "As long as it feels right for you…"

"It does — more than you could ever know." Yami's small smile broadened as he saw his koibito enter the room. He rose and embraced him wordlessly.

"Yami," Jounouchi interjected. "Se— Kaiba. I just want to let you know — as long as you're happy with each other, I'm happy for you." His gaze flickered to the brunet. "Both of you."

"Thank you," Seto responded absently.

Yami quickly looked up at him, startled by the sincerity of his tall lover's statement. He'd never heard the billionaire use that tone of voice with Jounouchi. _Explain?_ All manner of unworded questions accompanied the thought.

::_Perhaps__ a little later,_:: the other responded silently, not letting any of the uncharacteristic sympathy he felt for Yuugi's best friend slip through.

"Well… I really have to be going now," the blond said after a moment. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Need a ride?" his dark-haired friend asked.

The other nodded, and they made their farewells to the couple and Yuugi's grandpa as they left through the shop.

"I'm sorry," Honda said simply.

His friend blinked. "Huh?"

"I guess it must've been pretty hard… finding out he was taken that way."

Jounouchi stared at him for a moment, then ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. "Was it really that obvious?" he asked wryly.

The other smiled slightly. "Nah," he demurred. "When you've known someone as long as we've known each other, it just gets a lot easier to read 'im."

There was a pause as they both got on the motorcycle that was Honda's pride and joy.

"You can hang at my place for a bit, if you want," he offered. "I know you don't exactly have such a great family environment that you want to rush home right away."

The blond smiled crookedly. "Thanks."

"Any time, my friend. Any time."

* * *

  
  
Breathing heavily, Yuugi jogged around the bend of the park trail — and there, finally, was the object of his search, sitting on a bench with her head down and her knees drawn up to her chest. He quietly took a seat beside her. "Anzu?" he ventured.

"How could I not have figured it out?" she sobbed. "I should have noticed it in their body language, at least — the way they always stand so close, the way they so often _accidentally_ touch, the way they look at each other… why didn't I see it before, Yuugi? Why?"

"Sometimes," he murmured, moving closer to put an arm around her shoulders, "when you love someone, you can become so caught up in your own emotions that you don't even realise when he — or she — loves another." Yuugi rose to his feet again, taking the blue-eyed girl by the arm. "I know what you're going through, Anzu — I've been living through the same thing. Let me walk you home… and we can talk about it on the way. If you want."

She looked up at him, her face tearstained. "All right," she managed finally, rising.

As they started walking, she softly added, "Thank you, Yuugi."

He smiled a little. "I'll always be here if you need me, Anzu. Always."

* * *

It was a few hours after sunset.

Yami sighed, leaning back against his lover as he tightened his arms around Yuugi, and they sat together wordlessly for long moments, letting the drowsy peace they all felt flood their link.

"Well," the billionaire commented finally, "it has certainly been an interesting day. They took it rather better than I'd expected, all things considered."

"I **still** can't believe Jounouchi-kun!" Yuugi said for the dozenth time. "Who'd've thought he, of all people, would have the hots for **you**?"

"Please," Seto said plaintively, "can we talk about something else? Just thinking about it makes me want to scream for my Yami."

The King of Games smirked as his lover held him closer. "**Does** it, now…?"

Yuugi, too, grinned evilly. "Ne, hentai… hate to burst your bubble, but I think the sort of screaming he's talking about is more along the lines of _save me, save me_ than _fuck me, fuck me._"

Yami sighed petulantly. "Spoilsport."

The tall CEO laughed in spite of himself and buried his face in the gamesmaster's hair, nuzzling. "Kami-sama, Yami… I do love you."

A satisfied expression slid across the shorter duelist's face as he leaned up to kiss the other's cheek. "And I you, Seto-koi. I'll always love you."

* * *

20 July 2003.

To be continued.

Kiraya: disgusted **Why** did I do that? I **hate** Seto/Jou!

Zekoi: casually buffing his claws You really don't like BDSM much, either.

Kiraya: jabs him in the chest with a finger You know, this is all **your** fault, **muse**! Seto-sama tying Jounouchi down and fucking him senseless… shudders And you couldn't even help me come up with something better to put in there! You're so twisted!

Zekoi: raises an eyeridge So…?

Kiraya: ..

Zekoi: I'm just more surprised you put the Yuugi/Anzu bit in there. You won't even spare a glance for het fics… why write one with the stuff?

Kiraya: It follows Myrrekaessin's Writ of Writing — no matter what, always leave room for a sequel. And I've had a rough idea marinating in my mind for some time now ..

Zekoi: Oh, gods u..u;


	16. Newton's Third

**NEWTON****'S THIRD** by Kiraya

Here's to Takahashi-sensei and one winter's sick day spent reading our first Prideshipping fics to the dulcet sounds of Coldplay's "Clocks". Many thanks to both our Muses and our reviewers, and we sincerely hope you enjoy this last, ridiculously late chapter… and the citrusy little epilogue that follows.

* * *

There was snow on the ground all around them — crisp, fresh, clean snow that glittered in the sunlight as it formed shallow drifts around the tombstones, somewhat alleviating the usual sombre atmosphere of the cemetery. 

Yami stood at Seto's right side, held firmly against him by one strong arm as the brunet spoke his usual litany of the past month's events to the silence of his little brother's grave. He could feel the other's sorrow, still strong even after all these years, but eased by the comfort his tall lover found in his presence.

It made his heart ache, and his hand tightened around the object in his pocket.

"…and Yami and I are still together," the billionaire concluded, just as he always did. "It'll be four years next week." He sighed. "I wish you could see us now. You always urged me to find someone to love… Isn't it strange that I found that someone in my greatest rival?"

The dark one looked up at his lover, withdrawing his hand from his pocket to rub the other's chest comfortingly.

"Isn't it strange," Seto continued, his voice dropping to a whisper, "that it took your—" he swallowed hard "—your death for me to find him?"

The King of Games nestled closer, feeling the brunet's tears falling into his hair. After a long silence, he said softly, "It's not so strange; it's one of the laws of life. Newton's Third, to be specific."

Seto blinked. "That's not one of the laws of life; it's one of the laws of physics. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction."

Yami nodded against his chest. "Exactly. For every death, there is a birth; for every loss, there is a gain; for every end, there is a beginning. There is a balance to existence; it's like that new math where you have to add when you subtract so it still works out, you know?"

"You mean algebra?" the billionaire summarised, amused by the other's nomenclature for it. ::_"New math," indeed. After all, it's only been around for fifteen hundred years or so._::

The dark one's only response was to shrug and snuggle against his lover for warmth.

They stood together like that for long moments; then, with a sigh, Seto drew away enough so they could walk together back to the limo.

"Koibito — wait." The words crackled in the still, frosty air.

The taller one turned back to his pharaoh, pulling him into his arms again. "What is it?"

Yami's hand dipped back into his pocket, this time withdrawing the object within. "I… want you to have this," he whispered, pressing it into the other's broad palm and closing his fingers around it.

Seto opened his hand, and his eyes widened. He held a platinum ring mounted with a sapphire cabochon, flanked by two smaller ones. Delicately incised hieroglyphs encircled the band. "Yami…"

The spiky-haired one fidgeted. "Do you like it?"

"Very much… it's beautiful." He ran one long finger over the ancient symbols. "_I am my beloved's, and my beloved is mine. _A Hebrew sentiment, not Egyptian, but still wonderfully appropriate, considering."

The pharaoh gaped. "How did you— You can read that?"

The brunet smirked, reaching into his own pocket. "Well, yes," he replied cryptically, handing something to his lover, "but that's beside the point."

Yami's eyes narrowed as he looked at it, but he couldn't help a smile. "I suppose you asked Yuugi to help you with this, too?" he asked, chuckling. He held between his fingers the twin of the ring he'd given his former rival, though wrought in gold the same bright hue as the desert sands, and adorned with rubies instead of sapphires.

Seto nodded, his own grin broadening. "I should have suspected something when he agreed so readily to it."

The dark one laughed delightedly. "The little fox! Even after all this time, he still surprises me," he admitted almost ruefully.

The other smiled at that, but said nothing. For a moment they simply stood there, each examining the gift the other had given him.

"May I?" the billionaire asked suddenly.

The King of Games nodded, suddenly shy.

As he slid the gold ring onto Yami's slender finger, his lover slipped the platinum one onto his, murmuring something in a tongue that sounded tantalisingly familiar. For long moments after he finished, they gazed at each other in silence.

Feeling rather strange, the taller duelist spoke in a hushed voice. "Beloved… what was that?"

"An Egyptian blessing — a wedding prayer." He bowed his head. "You are truly mine now, Seto," he whispered. "Our souls are bonded for eternity."

"And you belong to me, too… always?" the brunet asked quietly, lifting his chin so their eyes met.

"Always, koibito… I will never leave you," the other returned softly, and reached up to capture his lips in a deep kiss.

They parted reluctantly long moments later. His long golden bangs moving gently with the light wind that had so suddenly risen up, Yami smiled at his life partner. "Ai shiteiru, Kaiba Seto."

The billionaire's sapphire eyes shone. "Ai shiteiru, Yami-chan," he murmured, and took the other's hand, feeling strangely elated. "Come, ore no koibito… or should I say ore no shujin?"

The other's smile broadened. "I rather like the sound of that… _my husband_. Let's go home."

They departed the cemetery hand in hand, and their footprints were the only sign of their passing but for one small thing…

On the new-fallen snow before the grave of Kaiba Mokuba lay eleven primroses, whose white petals fluttered slightly in the joyous breeze.

* * *

owari

**Note**: Due to its graphic content, the epilogue has been removed.


End file.
